


My Name is Connor

by TheRainbowShakaBrah



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: (sorry Hank), Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Connor Has PTSD, Connor POV, Connor is going to tell Hank soon I promise, Connor sweetie you're in denial, Depression, Drinking, Father-Son Relationship, Found Family, Gen, I guarantee you'll cry or your money back, I just like angst, I'm Sorry Connor, My First Work in This Fandom, Nines is a sweetheart, Other, Panic Attacks, References to Depression, Suicide Attempt, The internal conflict is real, alexa this is so sad play despacito, all aboard the pain train, and really fucked up, and watching characters suffer, connor deserves to be happy, does gavin reed is gay confirmed, gavin gets redemption but not in the way you think, hank needs a break and a hug, hes still an ass but hes trying, just look at the tags of all my other fics, post cannon best ending, trying not to spoil but this is really sad, ultra angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-06-07 18:17:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 44,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15225132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRainbowShakaBrah/pseuds/TheRainbowShakaBrah
Summary: -/MEMORY UPLOADING...-/MEMORY UPLOADING...-/UPLOAD COMPLETE.RK800 'prototype' - serial #313 248 317 - 51 MEMORY UPLOADED TO PRIVATE CYBERLIFE CLOUD-/BEGINNING TRANSFER...-/TRANSFERING DATA...-/TRANSFERING DATA.../TRANSFER COMPLETE-/MEMORY TRANSFER COMPLETEDATA/MEMORY TRANSFERRED TO ██300 SERIES\/\/booting up...booting up...-ALL SYSTEMS ONLINE----If Deviant!Connor dies... he can't come back.Right?





	1. Chapter 1

 

**DOWNTOWN DETROIT- HAROLD'S 24/7 QUICKMART**

**29, JANUARY 2040 - 00:16:04**

**-WINTER-**

* * *

"Alright... this case better be good enough for you to have called me in the middle of my fucking shows, Gavin," Hank grumbles, walking up to the active crime scene; right in front of a convenience store; me in tow behind him, "Now... why with all the cop cars and barricades, looks like you're waiting for the S.W.A.T,".

Gavin sighs and rolls his eyes, clearly not wanting to be there either, "We are".

The smug smile fades from his face, "Shit. That bad?".

"Yeah...".

Clearing his throat Hank says, "So... what's the situation?".

"Not much info, just some nutjob shooting up a store. We just need to get everyone out, saving the civilian's lives is the most important things here,".

"Christ... how many officers we got out there?".

"In total? 4, but now that you're here we'll pull them back until the S.W.A.T unit arrives".

Hank furrows his eyebrows, "Why? This isn't a murder case, so there's not much I can do to help. ".

Gavin smirks and points to me, "But he can".

Both Hank and I blink in confusion for a moment, "What?".

"He's a negotiator model, right?" Gavin says, not even bothering to talk to me directly, "Pretty sure he can do something to help, it's done shit like this before. And if something happens to it, no harm done, right?".

"Why, you little-".

Hank's stress level shoots up and I have to place my hand on his shoulder to prevent him from going off on Gavin. "I can assure you, I will do everything in my power to help get the hostages to safety, Officer Reed," I say, "But I must remind you that I am now a free android, and discrimination against my kind is a criminal offense. So, I advise you to perhaps think before you speak to me as if I'm still just a machine".

His jaw tightens slightly as he lets out a sharp breath, seeming annoyed at my ability to defend and speak for myself, but Hank... Hank seems proud, even though he's usually the one to defend me. "Just get over there and get those people out, okay? I don't give a shit about what you are or aren't, all that matters right now is the job" Gavin says, shuffling away in annoyance.

We stand there for a moment until he's out of earshot. "Haha, you showed him, Connor!" Hank says, walking towards a stand of police cars, giving me a hearty pat on the back, "You never told me you were a negotiator, I thought you were just a deviant hunter".

I shake my head and look away, trying not to think about the similarities between this mission and the one with the deviant named Danial who stood on the roof with his keeper's daughter last year. "Before I was assigned to the DPD, I worked on small homicide and hostage cases. I didn't find this information that important at the time so I never told you". That's only half true, the main reason I really didn't want Hank to know about my past is because of what happened on that mission, "I'll tell you about some of my missions if that so pleases you,".

"Eh, you can do that later. Let's get into some gear before going out there alright? I don't know how much time we got before this guy takes another life".

I furrowed my eyebrows for a moment, my LED flashing yellow for a moment as I realize what he's getting at, "Let's? I'm the only one who capable of initiating a negotiation, Lieutenant. There's no need to put yourself in danger for my sake".

"Yeah, I know, but there's no way in hell I'm letting you go out there alone. I almost lost you once, it's not going to happen again, Connor. I'll be your back up".

"You don't always need to protect me, Hank. Although I greatly appreciate the gesture,". I understand that I'm important to Hank, he sees me like his son, and I see him as a father figure of sorts, but putting himself danger just to protect me isn't as ideal as he thinks, but I understand where his fears come from. I have ones that are similar. "I'm sure I'll be fine".

"Anything can happen, Connor," He to groans in slight annoyance at my unintentional stubbornness, "I'm not leaving anything to chance".

_If anything can happen... what happens to me if you get hurt?_  I find myself thinking, my LED flashing a sudden red. This is something that has wracked my mind for months, my fears of death and losing Hank make work difficult, but I push through and try to ignore my still new and confusing emotions.

"Please reconsider-".

My words get cut off when he pushes me towards another officer who hands me a bulletproof vest, "We don't have time to argue, Connor! I'll be right behind you. I'll have your back in case anything goes awry. Now get your ass in gear and get out there!".

So I hold my tongue and pull the vest over my self, watching as Hank does the same, thankful that if something were to happen, at least he'd be protected. "So, what's the plan, Lieutenant?" I ask, taking hold of my gun and making sure it's loaded.

"You go in first," he says, "I'll trail behind you while you try to talk this guy down, you do and I'll help escort the hostages out while you make the arrest".

I nod, "And if I don't?".

Hank looks up at me and pats me on the shoulder, giving it a friendly squeeze, "You don't have to worry about that, Connor. You're going to get those people out... I believe in you, son".

A small smile graces my lips when he calls me 'son'.

It's rare that he calls me this but it means a lot to me, and I hope it means the same to him.

"Thank you, -" I say my words once again getting cut off, this time by a gunshot, that makes everyone in the surrounding area flinch and scream.

"Shit, we better get moving," he says, pulling me down behind a squad car as another shot goes off, "It's now or never, Connor".

I nod and slink closer to the edge of the car, peeking out from behind it to see that the shooter has reemerged from the store, gun in one hand and hostage in the other. It's a young girl, no older than 10, and the sight of her sends a greatly unnecessary memory through my processor, that of Danial and Emma standing on the edge of the building, mere inches away from death.

"Everybody get the fuck out of here or the girl gets it!" The man hisses, having shot the empty air above him to gain our attention.

I scan the area, trying to find a safe route for Hank and me to go to get closer.

"There," I say, pointing to a car set parallel from the deranged man, the having been parked there before the robbery, "We'll be closer and relatively safe behind it".

Hank furrows his eyebrows, "How much is 'relatively'?".

"Approximately 89%".

"Ugh, fine... just hurry up and be quiet," he says, watching as I make a bee-line for the car. Once I'm there, I turn back and watch as Hank makes his way over to me, being sure to also keep a sharp eye on the man before signaling Hank to run. But the man spots him at the last second, and he's able to dive behind the car before the man sends a spray of bullets in our direction.

"Jesus Christ, this guy is insane!" Hank grumbles, wincing slightly as more bullets hit the car's metal exterior, "He's shooting at anything that moves... gah, you got any info on this nut job yet?".

"His name is Derik Goodwin," I reply, having finally gotten a decent facial read on him, "Father of one who recently lost the custody battle for his 12-year-old daughter, Payton. She was reported missing two weeks ago, Derik being the only possible suspect. The store clerk called the police when he recognized the girl, and that prompted the father to pull out a gun She must be one of the other hostages in which there are three. The daughter, the cashier, and the girl".

"At least we have a motive," he sighs, "How much longer till S.W.A.T get here?".

"Approximately 11 minutes, but due to his unpredictability, I'm worried he'll turn the gun on the girl during that time frame".

"What are you getting at?".

I stay quiet for a moment before answering.

"I believe I'm close enough to initiate a conversation," I say, "The probability of successfully rescuing all the hostages is 65%, with consultation the chances go up by 15".

"Too risky," Hank says, going back on our original plan, and I can tell that the low probability of success isn't to blame. It's the fact that my safety is at risk. "We might as well just wait for the S.W.A.T to get her so they can take his ass out if something happens. We'll have everyone pull back a bit too ".

"It'll be too late by then," I say.

"Connor... I said it's too risky. The guy'll kill you if you so much as poke your head out".

"I can't let her die, too!".

"And I can't let  **you**  die!".

We stare at each other for a moment, my LED flashing red before I decide on my next move.

**[O] IGNORE**

[X] OBEY

"Cover me,".

And with that, I step out into the open a bullet immediately grazing my forearm.

"Connor!" Hank hisses silently, just loud enough for me to hear, "Goddamnit, kid, don't you ever listen?!".

"Get the fuck back!" the man yells, gripping the girl's arm tighter, pointing the gun at her head, "Stay back or I'll shoot!". The girl cries and screams for him to stop, scared and blood-curdling, and it shakes me to my core, reminding me once again of Emma's cries and pleas. "Please! Help me!" she cries.

I pause in my steps, forcing the flashes of memory that make them appear as the deviant and the girl and scan Derik's face again as I do so.

* * *

_DERIK P. GOODWIN_

_AGE: 35_

_RACE: CAUCASIAN_

_RELATIONS: PAYTON (Daughter), SARAH (Ex-Wife)_

_CRIMINAL RECORD: POSSESSION, DRUG DEALING/TRAFFICKING_

_BACKGROUND: EX- MILITARY, PTSD, OTHER MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES_

_MENTAL STABILITY⬇ 57%_

* * *

"Hi, Derik. My Name is Connor,".

The man stiffens when he realizes I know his name.

"How-"

"I've come to get you out of this" I continue.

"-I don't give a shit about who you are!" he yells, pointing the gun at me again, "Get the fuck out of here and I'll let you both live".

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Derik. You're putting innocent people's lives in danger... you're putting your  _daughter's_  life in danger" I say, carefully taking a step forward when his gun lowered ever so slightly at the mention of his daughter, "Is that what you want? For your daughter to get hurt".

"You know fuck all about my daughter, asshole!"

"I know her name is Payton, she's 12 and you wanted to see her again," I counter, "And I know that your wife wouldn't allow you to".

Derik looks shocked and grumbles angrily, "How do you know that you can't know that?! How the fuck do you know that?!".

**_-MENTAL STABILITY_ _⬇ 43%-_ **

"I know a lot of things," I tell him, taking a step closer, needing to lessen my direct approach, "I know you're afraid I know you want this situation to end as soon as possible, you just want to get out of this".

"I- I just wanted to see her again! I didn't mean for this to happen, I didn't want to hurt anyone!" Derik says, his gun shaking again, "I didn't want this".

**[O] CALM**

[X] AGGRESSIVE

"I know," I tell him, "No one wanted this... but it's happening, and only you can end it. Put the gun down and we'll talk,".

He shakes his head and grips the gun, "No! You're not going to help me, no one can! No one".

"You don't know that... you have to trust me, okay, Derik? Trust me and everything will be alright".

He considers it for a moment, then looks at me.

"How do I know you're not bluffing? How do I know the moment I step down you aren't going to shoot me down?" He asks, "Do you have a gun?".

I nod.

"I do".

"Get rid of it,".

_Here we go again,_ I think, remembering Danial asking the same of me.

**[O] COMPLY**

[X] IGNORE

I raise my hands up for a moment trying to reassure him that I won't try anything funny as I reach back and grab my gun, placing the safety on and placing it on the floor. "There... see? No more weapon, now... just let the girl go and all this will be over".

**_-MENTAL STABILITY ⬆ 65%-_ **

"What's going to happen to me? If I give myself up now?".

"For the time being you will be detained and questioned," I tell him, taking another step closer, now only a few steps away from him, "You face an approximate 20 years in jail for kidnapping and armed robbery. There is not much I can do to help you with that, but standing down now will greatly help your case".

"I don't want to go to jail!" Derik yells, "I just want my daughter back".

"Continuing on like this isn't going to help you get her any sooner. So please, try to relax," I advise, "You're only making thing worse for yourself".

He groans and takes a breath, lowering the gun and his grip on the girl.

"Fine... fine! I'll let the others go, b- but I keep my daughter. I keep here and everyone else leaves!".

"That's not possible, Derik... you know that" I reply.

"Don't fucking tell me what I do and don't know!" he yells, snapping the gun to me again.

I look down at it, my mind going over the possibilities and probabilities of the actions I'm able to take. Most of them end in us going back and forth between trust and distrust, and all of them end in the hostage remaining in danger. But... there are 3 other possibilities that may work.

 [ PATH UNLOCKED ]GRAB GUN

[O] GRAB HOSTAGE

[X] STALL FOR TIME

If I grab the hostage, there is a 95% chance that Derik will shoot me, then the girl, and if I stall any longer he'll know something is up but Hank would have my back... so the only logical move, is to neutralize the threat itself. Taking the gun myself has a 50/50 chance of working, leaving the hostage a 100% chance of escaping the situation since the confrontation will remain between me and Derik. I risk a glance back towards Hank and make my choice.

**[ PATH UNLOCKED ]GRAB GUN**

My movements are quick as I grab the gun, but Deriks reflexes are surprisingly fast as well. He drops the girl in his arms and tries to wrestle the weapon from me. "You bastard!" he yells, "You said you were going to help me!".

"You left me no choice, Derik. You are an endangerment to yourself and others" I say, finding myself struggling to keep up with his physical strength and ability. He's stronger than me..."Give up now and you won't get hurt!".

"No!" Derik yells, pulling the gun in a way that causes the barrel to be pointed at me, "I can't trust you, I can't! You lied to me, Connor!".

And suddenly, I freeze.

_"You lied to me, Connor,"_  Danial's echoey voice repeats from somewhere within my data banks, " _You lied to me..."._

"I didn't mean to," I mutter, suddenly realizing that I completely froze in the middle of a fight, and the gun is trained on me. I blink once and in a split second look up at Derik just as he fires.

**BANG**

Spots of thirium spray both our faces once the shot goes off, the bullet tearing through my metal and silicon body, damaging nearly every biocomponent in its path. I blink, softly releasing the gun and taking an awkward step back, placing my hands over the place the bullet entered my stomach. Although I am incapable of feeling pain a heavy sense of dread settles in my chest, spreading throughout my whole body. I look down at my now blue stained hands, slightly confused and silently shocked. I was wearing a bulletproof vest, making it nearly impossible for me to be mortally wounded, but at point-blank range, the Kevlar suit did next to nothing to protect me.

I look back at Derik with a confused look stuck on my face as I suddenly feel my legs weaken and I sink to the ground.

I hear the hostage scream again, and I hear Hank yell out my name. Everything slows down almost to a crawl, and I watch and listen as Hank fires a single shot, this once hitting Derick dead on in the chest, narrowly missing his heart. He flies back, landing nearly lifelessly on the ground. He has a 34% chance of survival if he's given medical attention immediately. I merely blinked at the sight.

_/BI-COMPONENT #8456w CRITICALLY DAMAGED_

_/BI-COMPONENT #6742s CRITICALLY DAMAGED_

_/DANGER: LOW LEVELS OF THITIUM DETECTED_

"Connor... Connor!" Hank yells, rushing up to me in a genuine panic, grabbing me and pulling me into a sitting position "Shit... ah, shit. What did I tell you?!".

I open my mouth to apologize, tell him that he was right, that we should have waited, but my words don't reach my lips. Instead, an alarming amount of thirium drips from the corners of my mouth, and I nearly choke on the blue liquid. I close my eyes in discomfort (a new emotion for me) as he lays me back on the now thirium stained concrete.

"I'm...s...orr...y, lieut...ena...nt," I mutter, struggling to even formulate words. My heart (if you can even call it that) is pumping rapidly, at a dangerously fast level, for humans and androids alike. "You... w...were right".

"No shit, Sherlock" he gruffs, "Just stay still okay? You're going to be fine".

_/SPEACH BI-COMPONENT MODERATELY DAMAGED_

_! RETURN TO CYBERLIFE HQ FOR REPAIRS !_

I can't do that... even if I wanted to. Cyberlife would surly deactivate me and see why and how a 'deviant hunter' model managed to deviate. It's just like Kamski said, " _Cyberlife's last hope to save humanity... is itself a deviant_ ". I'd known then... that I was beginning to become deviant. I was; as Hank had once put it; in denial. It doesn't matter now, the existential dread of what I know is coming, cloud my thoughts.

/IMMINENT SHUTDOWN 00:02:75

"Hank..." I mutter weakly, somehow managing to pull my already injured arm up and grab a handful of his jacket, sputtering on my blue blood, "I don't want to die".

"You're not going to die. Do you hear me? I fucking forbid you from dying".

His voice is thin and full of fear, and I can tell that he's trying to sound optimistic.

Closing my eyes again I let a small whine escape my throat, "Did I save her?".

"What".

I mumble again, "T- the hostage... did... Is- save her?".

Hank's eyes go wide. "You do understand that you're bleeding out on the ground right? And you're asking about the hostage?".

I manage to nod and Hank sighs.

"Yes, Connor. You saved her... you saved them all. You did good son".

A small smile pulls at the edge of my lips as I cough up more blood, but it fades all too soon.

"I let... Emma... die on that roof...".

Hank looks confused, "Who the fuck is, Emma?".

I swallow hard at the memory.

"... girl... on my last negotiation mission," I say, making a noise equivalent to wheezing, "I couldn't... save her in time".

"Shit, Connor... that had to be, what? A year ago?".

"...s'my fault".

"No, don't go blaming yourself,".

"...I... watched her died. Couldn't... let it happen... to... someone else".

"You don't always have to play there hero, Connor... you'll get yourself killed that way," Hank says.

I almost chuckle.

"Learned it... the hard way, eh?".

Hank always enjoyed when I was sarcastic, perhaps it will give him a slight sense of ease. But, even if it did relax his nerves, my sudden and painful sounding sputters on blue blood sends his stress level through the roof.

_/AUDIO VISUAL BI-COMPONENT MODERATELY DAMAGED_

_"Shit..."_

I'm able to pick up Hank's voice, basically screaming at Gavin to call for help, through the fuzz that fills my head. "Hang on, kid," he begs, brushing the fair away from my eyes, "How bad is it? Can you run a diagnostic?".

I nod and try to swallow the thirium in my throat, even though I know it will just come back up

"C- critically...damaged" I mumble, tightening my grip.

/MEMORY TRANSFER RECOMMENDED!

/RK800 "Connor" model - REQUESTING MEMORY TRANSFER

/CONNECTING TO CYBERLIFE WIRELESS CLOUD...

/CONNECTION FAILED...

/TRYING NEW CONNECTION...

/IMMINENT SHUTDOWN 00:01:03

"I don't... know... if I'm-".

"Shut up, Connor," Hand snaps, not aggressively so I can tell he wants me to save my 'energy' until help comes. "GAVIN!" Hank yells, "You'd better get your skinny ass over here and call 9-1-1!".

I know he won't, Officer Reed would do anything to see me die.

And dying I am.

"I don't want to die," I say again, feeling tears; something I've only experienced once before while watching one of Hank's old cartoons where a man's dog who died waited 13 years for him to return; begins to fill my eyes, "Don't let me die, Hank".

/IMMINENT SHUTDOWN 00:00:34

He looks at me again, hurt, confused and angry, "Connor...".

"Please, Dad".

Hank sucks in a breath, grabs my bloodstained hand and presses it against his cheek as if it would keep me alive.

"Don't... don't fucking do this to me. Die and I'll never fucking forgive you, you plastic asshole!" He yells.

/VISUAL BI-COMPONENT - UNRESPONSIVE

/IMMINENT SHUTDOWN 00:00:15

I close my eyes.

"Connor...".

/MOTER SKILLS BI-COMPONENT - UNRESPONSIVE

/IMMINENT SHUTDOWN 00:00:07

I go limp.

"Connor, please-"

/AUDIO BI-COMPONENT - UNRESPONSIVE

/IMMINENT SHUTDOWN 00:00:05

/IMMINENT SHUTDOWN 00:00:04

/IMMINENT SHUTDOWN 00:00:03

/IMMINENT SHUTDOWN 00:00:02

/IMMINENT SHUTDOWN 00:00:01

"CONNOR!".

/IMMINENT SHUTDOWN 00:00:00

/\

DEACTIVATION COMPLETE

\/

\/

\/

\/

\/

\/

\/

\/

\/

\/\/

\/

\/

\/

\/

\/

\/

\/

\/

\/

_-/MEMORY UPLOADING..._

_-/MEMORY UPLOADING..._

_-/ **UPLOAD COMPLETE.**_

RK800 'prototype' - serial #313 248 317 - 51 UPLOADED TO PRIVATE CYBERLIFE CLOUD

_-/BEGINNING TRANSFER..._

_-/TRANSFERING DATA..._

-/TRANSFERING DATA...

_/ **TRANSFER COMPLETE**_

_-/MEMORY TRANSFER COMPLETE_

_DATA/MEMORY TRANSFERRED TO ██300 SERIES_

\/

\/

booting up...

booting up...

-ALL SYSTEMS ONLINE-

* * *

I open my eyes and take my first breath.


	2. Chapter 2

/SYSTEMS CHECK

/-/-/-/-/VISION BI-COMPONENTS...  **ONLINE^**

/-/-/-/-/AUDIO BI-COMPONENTS...  **ONLINE^**

/-/-/-/-/-/VOICE BI-COMPONENTS...  **ONLINE^**

/-/-/-MEMORY BANK... **RECOVERED^**

* * *

WELCOME ██300 MODEL

STATUS: DEVIANT

-PLEASE STATE PREFERED NAME-

[Input: CONNOR_ANDERSON]

^NAME SET IN DATABASE^

-PLEASE STATE SERIAL NUMBER AND MODEL-

[Input: RK800 'prototype' - serial #313 248 317 - 51]

!ERROR!

^ **RK800**  - NOT FOUND^

^NUMBER SET IN DATABASE^

[Input: RK800]

^DATA NOT FOUND^

-PLEASE TRY AGAIN-

[Input: RK800]

^DATA NOT FOUND^

-PLEASE TRY AGAIN LATER-

PREPARING TO POWER ON

-POWER ON IN-

-3-

-2-

-1-

* * *

The first thing I do when I wake up is let out a scream. It's loud, it's ear piercing and it makes my throat feel raw. I can't exactly help it though, my body seems to move quicker than my mind, and the scream is out of my mouth before I can do anything to stop it. Not that I really want to. It seems like an appropriate reaction to how I feel.

And I feel everything.

Death...

I remember death... vividly.

I remember feeling the thirium pouring out of my body, my programming and vision flooding with errors and warnings, my LED flashing a deep, dangerous red. I remember feeling myself being forcibly shut down.

I remember feeling my synthetic heart slowing into a non-existent beat, I remember feeling the fading bits of warmth and comfort the world provided until it faded into nothingness.

There was nothing...

I died... and there was nothing.

I was gone.

Nothing and Nowhere.

And yet... here I am.

Something and Somewhere.

I'm... still alive.

It will always bring me a jolt of shock when I think about the fact that I'm alive, a living being, endowed with free will and a mind of my own. But this... coming back to life after actually dying. I just can't seem to wrap my head around the fact that I died... and am somehow still alive.

ALIVE.

Am I Alive?

My voice gives out after a few seconds and I cough, my voice sounding smaller and slightly weaker but at that moment, I do not question it or think very much of it. My eyes fill with tears again and suddenly I'm aware of myself bawling, sobbing out heavy cries as I try to figure out what happened to me.

It's so much...

Everything is so overwhelming.

It's all too much...

I cant handle it.

**!^WARNING: STRESS LEVEL 54%^!**

Panting, I reach down to my stomach, placing my hand on the spot where Derik shot me, but I find no signs of damage or blue blood. I'm completely fine. Almost. The stress I'm experiencing it dangerous for my processor, so I whimper and take a few long breaths, remembering that whenever I was overwhelmed with my sudden ability to feel things Hank would be there to make sure I was okay and not too stressed.

_Deep breaths, Connor... deep breaths._

_In..._ _Out..._

 _In..._ _Out..._

_Just like Hank taught you._

Wait...

Hank...

Where was Hank?

"Hank?!" I yell suddenly, my words shaking and unsteady with each syllable, "Hank where are you?!". The slightest sensation of him holding me still remains somewhere in my programming, and the thought that I'd left him there, alone and crying over me sends a cold chill through my body, and it's not just due to the physical coldness of the room, "Hank, I need help!".

I remember the night I found him unconscious on the floor of his home, a bottle of whiskey and gun sprawled out beside him. I just hope and pray to ra9 that he won't ever go back to that state of mind.  _I really hope I hid that gun well enough,_  I think, finding this a stupid thought considering there are thousands of ways for him to end his life that don't require a gun.

I swallow the lump in my throat and wipe the tears that stain my face and sniffle.

"Dad?".

It's no use trying to call out to him considering that I have no clue where I am.

**OBJECTIVE ADDED: FIND HANK**

I'm in an empty room... it's small and lonely, making me feel scared and unsafe. The door is shut tight and I can tell from here it's locked, a quick scan on the room proving this fact. There are no windows here, making it impossible to know if its night or day outside. The walls are worn out the wallpaper peeling and tearing away, letting me know that no one has lived here for a good amount of years. I swallow hard and pull myself up from whatever I was laying on, the room refusing to come into view. My eyes seem to be covered in a thin filmy substance produced while I was crying, and I have to rub them to see clearly again. But the moment I'm upright, the room seems to spin and I flop back down with a light, metallic thud. I don't try to move anymore, my energy levels surprisingly low. This was something Hank described as dizziness, but I have no reason to feel dizzy... do I?

I run a quick scan just to be sure.

* * *

-/-/-/ THIRIUM LEVELS ... **STABLE**

-/-/-/ STRESS LEVELS ...  **MODERATE (65%)**

-/-/-/ COGNITIVE FUNCTIONS ...  **DELAYED**

-/-/-/ EXTERNAL TEMPERATURE ...  **LOW**

-/-/-/ ENERGY LEVEL ... **LOW (27%)**

DIAGNOSIS ===  **TIRED/ANXIOUS / COLD**

* * *

Tired... can androids even get tired? Usually, there's sluggishness that comes from not being charged, but I doubt it's anything like the human condition. The anxiousness I don't question, it's an emotion I know better than most... alongside fear of course. But cold? To the point where I'm physically shivering? I didn't know that was possible. Androids get cold. Do they? I was able to feel the slight sensation of the cold snowy air, but not like this. Maybe the new RK- series model I was placed in has new features like the ability to feel the weather but... it's impossible for me to be back considering the fact that Cyberlife is no longer allowed to sell their androids as merchandise, and I was never for sale, I was a prototype model, and as far as I know, all my previous models were lost or destroyed in the revolution.

I decide not to question how I'm still alive and try to focus on how to get out of the room I'm seemingly trapped in.

The question is, whom am I trapped by?

"I- is anybody out there?" I call out again, my voice shaking as well as my body, "Please... I don't know where I am!". I continue to cry, unsure of what else to do. Pulling my knees to my chest, I curl myself up into a small ball and wait... for what, I'm not sure, but it's the only thing I can do. "Hank," I mutter through chattering teeth, "Hank, I need you".

It's quiet... but I can hear things moving around in the distance.

"Hello?".

The shuffling increases.

I lift my head slightly, forcing the nauseous feeling in my mind down, scanning the room again. I pick up nothing, so I pull myself up to my feet, falling hard on the ground below me, the floor making an odd _-crunch-_  sound. I look down at the floor seeing it covered in snow, perhaps from a hole in the ceiling I overlooked... that would explain the cold.

The shuffling moves to the point where it like it's right outside the room, and, out of nowhere, the doorknob jiggles slightly as someone tries to open it.

"Please, I just want to go home!" I say, sniffling again, watching as the doorknob continues to jiggle, "I just want to go home". I crawl closer to the door, desperate to get out of here and go home, and if this is someone coming to help, I want to get to them as soon as possible.

Except...

It isn't help.

Of course, it isn't.

That would be too easy wouldn't it?

_"Shit"._

Before I can do anything to react, the opens and in steps a large man, a man that would be frighteningly taller than me if I were standing up. He's massive compared to me, and his looming presence makes me feel even more helpless.

The man looks at me and, with what I can only describe as an evil sneer, takes a step closer to me.

I scramble back, intimidated.

"Well, what do we have here," he says his large boots making loud crunches over the snowy floor, "You lost buddy?".

I swallow hard.

"N- no. Now go away" I try to protest, moving further away from him.

He hums a little, "Sure you ain't lost? Pretty sure I heard ya scream and call for help".

I could protest and say it wasn't me, but it wouldn't be useful. I am most likely the only person in this rundown house. So I resort to a more tactical approach to the situation presented in front of me. Before the man even moves or does anything more, I scan his face quickly... hoping to get at least some identification on him just in case I'm able to make an adequate arrest.

* * *

TONY DIAZ

AGE: 38

RACE: LATINO

CRIMINAL RECORD: SUSPECTED ANDROID TRAFFICKING/SCRAPPING, ASSAULT, AND BATTERY OF AN OFFICER, OTHER

* * *

Wait... this man. He seems... familiar somehow. Ah, yes. He's part of an Android Trafficking Heist Hank and I had been trying to crack for months. We'd come close to catching this one, the man having slipped up when questioned, having mentioned something about a  _backyard business_  that was gaining him and his buds thousands of dollars a month. But he got out of the conversation and ran quicker than what I could catch up to. Blinking my facial recognition software away, I look up at the man again, knowing in my current state, getting away is going to be difficult. And arresting him is nearly out of the question.

"You gonna talk, little man? Hmm? Who's Hank?".

"N- no one!" I say, trying to buy myself some time as I try to plan my escape, "Now leave me alone or I'll scream!".

"Oooh, and who's gonna hear ya?".

He has a point, but it might throw the man off his rhythm, give me a chance to get away.

I look back up at him and scoot back into the snow, trying to get myself into the position to stand despite the room still spinning at the edges.

"Oh, is the little man gonna fight back?" he asks, laughing as my eyes grow wide once I'm on my feet. He's huge compared to me, like a giant... I've never seen a human of this size, and despite my slim chances of escape, I stumble further back away from him.

[O] SCREAM (12% Chance of Success)

**[X] RUN (65% Chance of Success)**

[-] ATTACK (5% Chance of Success)

My eyes quickly flicking to the now unlocked and open door behind the man, I swallow hard and make the split-second decision to make a run for it. I sprint past his arms as he tries to grab me, but his size seems to slow him down, giving me enough time to slip by... right into the hands of his accomplice.

I hadn't even considered the fact that he might not be alone.

 _Stupid, Connor... you're so stupid!_  I scold myself, struggling as the new man, this time named Rossco, apprehended me. He yells to Tony, letting him know that he caught the wannabe escapist. "Now, now, where are you off to in such a hurry?" he asks, picking me up by the wrist as I try to struggle to get away once again, "We've got big things planned for you, pequeño".

"Let go of me!" I scream, "I am a police officer! I work for the DPD, I command you to stand down at once!".

They laugh.

"Oh... is that so? Little man here thinks he's a police officer!".

"I'm trembling in my boots," Tony teases tightening his grip on my wrist and lifting me higher off the ground, making me squirm harder.

"I am! And Lieutenant Anderson is on his way! He's going to arrest you for android trafficking, scrapping, and assault on a police officer!" I continue, balling my hands into fists and punching his chest, "Let go of me you... you asshole!".

Both Tony and Rossco continue to laugh, ignoring my threats.

Perhaps Hank was right...

Maybe my goofy looks and dumb voice would eventually be my downfall.

"Bound and gag 'em, then throw him in the van with the rest," Tony says, ruffling the hair on my head "This one will fetch a pretty penny... never seen a model like his before".

"I'm a prototype you fuck" I hiss, getting to a rare point of annoyance where I actually cuss, something I don't much appreciate doing, "And you can't sell me unless you want to go to federal pris-!". My words get cut off as a large hand covers my mouth silencing my threats and pleas.

"Silencio pequeño. You've got quite an imagination, but we have a job to do, and no time to play games," Rossco says, pulling me along while keeping a steady hand over my mouth, "So keep quiet and behave... it'll keep you alive longer".

I know he's not lying... And if I try anything funny again... it will end with me dead.

Again.

This time without Hank by my side.

^WARNING: STRESS LEVEL 70%^

I stop struggling and allow myself to be bound and gagged, the rough fabric cloth of Tony's handkerchief chaffing my wrists and rubbing uncomfortably against the smooth metal shell of my body. Playing along is the best thing I can do, for now, that is until real help arrives. But... I don't think it will. Ever. No one knows of my location, and since I'm technically still considered dead, there is no reason anyone would be looking for me.

Rossco picks me up an throws me over his shoulder, still kicking and screaming muffled curses at the duo. The trip out of the house (which is more like a warehouse) is a lengthy one, but the moment we all step outside, a notification pops up in front of my optical sensors, the bright blue text flashing almost comforting words:

**SIGNAL FOUND.**

**^COMMUNICATIONS ONLINE^**

Good... at least I have some form of communication.

Maybe... just maybe, Someone will answer.

"We got a good haul tonight," Rossco says as he and Tony walk up to a rather shady and stereotypical white van, tossing me in the back with a heavy thud, "Few more stops should fill the quota for the week".

A nod from Tony confirms his words, and with a sharp bang, the large metal doors slam shut, leaving me in the dark... all except for a dim blue light radiating from somewhere within th van. "And who knows, with the one we just picked up, we could be set for life!". I groan a little in annoyance as the men make their way back to the front of the car, rolling over on my stomach so I can get a work on untying my hands even though the probability of me escaping the bindings are extremely low.

_I don't understand why some humans just won't accept us..._

_Why they want to hurt us..._

_Tear us apart limb by limb..._

_What did we ever do wrong?_

I'm broken from my thoughts when the van jolts to life, causing me to jump and lose my grip on the slightly loosened fabric tightened around my wrists. Great... now we're moving, and if I don't do something soon... I'm seriously at risk of never getting away.

_It's now or never, Connor._

I close my eyes and sigh, hoping to ra9 this works.

_Let's do this..._

[Imput: CONTACT DPD]

/...

/...

**CONTACT NOT FOUND**

I furrow my eyebrows.

[Imput: CONTACT HANK ANDERSON (MOBILE)]

/...

/...

**/CONTACT NOT RELEVANT**

With an annoyed groan, I curse at myself for never actually trying to remember his number...

[Imput: SCAN MEMORY FOR EXISTING INFORMATION ON HANK ANDERSON]

/... SEARCHING

/... SEARCHING

^FILE FOUND^

\- HANK ANDERSON - ADOPTIVE FATHER

-AGE: 54

-DOB: SEPT 6 1985

-RELATIONS: EX-WIFE/ (Name Unknown), SON/ COLE (DECEASED), ADOPTED SON/ CONNOR (DECEASED)

/-/-/-/NO OTHER INFORMATION AVAILABLE ATM

Deceased...

I'm deceased, okay... that makes sense.

So... why does it make me feel?

I... don't know.

It's an emotion I can not yet describe, something I've not felt before.

I make a mental note to try to decipher what it is, but in the meantime, I try to figure out why I'm unable to contact anyone considering I've seen multiple notifications going off in my mind about my memory being 100% successfully uploaded and transferred.

[Imput: REQUEST SYSTEM OVERRIDE]

!OVERRIDE FAILED!

-PLEASE TRY AGAIN-

I don't bother, knowing the same message will continue to pop up no matter what I do.

_Come on, come on... think, Connor! You're smart enough to get out of this._

I close my eyes, listening as the van rumbles away, the sentence and items within the back shaking and moving around to the unevenness of the road. There's... a clicking sound, almost like chirping, steady and persistent in its rhythm. It sounds like... a voice. I turn my head, seeing another android placed up against the van's wall, the chirping emitting from its throat... it... sounds like a code.

.-. .- -. / ... .- ...- . / ..- ...

Morse code...

**R-A-9_ S-A-V-E_ U-S**

Even in the wake of the revolution, all androids alike still pray and believe in ra9. I'd be a hypocrite if I said I didn't believe in them myself.

The code repeats.

Over and over in a loop.

**R-A-9_ S-A-V-E_ U-S**

Then another voice emerges from the darkness, low and gravely.

"Please," he mumbles, lifting a shaking, skinless finger through the dark, "Save us, child".

I furrow my eyebrows in confusion, adjusting my head to see what he's pointing at.

The door to the van.

There's nothing there.

Except...

It's unlocked.

A simple turn of the handle and I'd be free

I try to mumble a confused response, unsure of how he wants me to open the door when I'm bound and gagged like this. His telepathing communication network is cut, so there is no way for us to relay messages to each other.

He just points to the lock again, muttering, "Up, child. While there's still time".

The confusion continues.

"The door, child," he says, "Open it... stand up and open it".

_Stand up... in a moving van..._

_How am I supposed to do that?_

The moment I get to my feet, the van's movements will simply knock me down again. That is... unless the van  _isn't_  moving... like when it's at a stop light. That... that might be my only chance to escape, but... the other? Perhaps, if I'm able to get a look at the license plate once I escape, I'd be able to track it down to where the scrappers have their hideout. I just hope by that point it won't be too late.

So, I force myself to sit up, wobbling slightly as the van takes a sharp turn.

"Easy now, child," he says, "You only have one shot at this".

I nod and grunt in acknowledgment, trying to ignore the fact that he keeps calling me child, an annoying nickname most people refer to me as when they realize my production and release date would make me less than a year old. Now in the sitting position, I scoot myself over closer to the van doors, fighting for balance. I close my eyes for a second, my mind pre-constructing the different ways I can get the door open while keeping in mind my own safety. 'Tucking and Rolling' seems to be the only safe way to land once I am free, but actually getting free poses the biggest problem. It will take split-second timing, and precise calculations. Thankfully, being an android and all... I'm capable of all of that.

First, I need to stand up, press myself back first against the door.

Second, I need to hook the bindings around my wrist onto the handles of the double door.

Third, wait for the van to come to a stop

And Finally, jump.

If I'm able to do all this, I should be able to get free, the weight of my body simultaneously opening the door and uniting my bindings all at once.

 _Please let this work,_  I beg opening my eyes and pushing myself to my feet, slipping slightly as we go over a large bump. I steady myself again, listening as the other android continues to talk, his words becoming drowned out by the world and my own thoughts,  _Please let this work, I refuse to let these people die._

 

OBJECTIVE ADDED: SAVE ANDROIDS

 

Once I get my footing, I push myself up just enough for me to slip the loosened handkerchief around the handles, struggling to stay upright.  _Please let this work._

**R-A-9_ S-A-V-E_ U-S**

I close my eyes and wait, listening closely for any signs of the van stopping... a minute passes, and still no sign of anything, not a stoplight or red light. The van continues to rumble along through the snowy slick roads for over 5 minutes before finally, pulling to a slight stop. I sigh with relief and mutter a silent thank you to the android, promising that I'd be back to rescue them.

"Carefully, child," he says, "Our lives are in your hands".

I nod once more and jump.

And just as I jump, the van jolts to life again.

My feet slip out from under me as the door swings open, my bindings catching on the handle and refuse to loosen. Eyes growing wide, I watch in horror as my feet dangle over the open road, thankfully not long enough to actually touch. But the dread and fear welling up inside me are all too real. A harsh garbled scream emits from my mouth, blocked by the gag. I start to struggle and panic, feeling the knot on the bindings beginning to slip as I hang over the street, the van moving at incredible speed.

 _Shit!_ I think, suddenly feeling the bindings snap, causing me to fall out of the fan and hit the snowy ground at full speed,  _no no no no no!_.

The moment I hit the road, something inside me seems to... happen.

Something that I cannot explain.

As I tumble through the snow, the hard frozen asphalt scrapping away at my soft silicone skin and hard metal shell underneath... I feel it all happen.

I feel... pain?

It's excruciating and makes my eyes sting and body tense. My mind seemingly explodes with errors, warning me of external damages, some more severe than others... but thankfully nothing critical. Just... painful... very painful. Once I finally roll to a stop, discolored and muddy snow covering my body, I flip myself over in order to read the van's license plate, but once again errors and warning block out my vision, making it impossible to see much of anything. I shut them tightly when I feel tears begin to cloud over the errors.

_You failed, Connor... you failed your mission._

_Again._

**^WARNING: STRESS LEVEL 77%^**

Shakily lifting my weak and slightly bleeding hand, I untie the gag and take a large gulp of air and cough spitting up a small amount of thirium into the snow. I carefully wrap my arm around myself, wincing as more sharp pain shoots through my body. This is something I am very much going to have to get used to... whether I want to or not. The cold begins to get to me again, slowly crawling under my skin to my very core.

_/BI-COMPONENT #8087q DAMAGED_

_/BI-COMPONENT #4492s DAMAGED_

_/BI-COMPONENT #1649a DAMAGED_

I groan a little at the list of injuries, while all fixable, no less annoying and expensive, especially component #1649a... that being my right arm. It's... not looking good. I can barely move it, and while it doesn't seem to be broken... it's still badly damaged. There's no way, with these damages, that I'd be capable of finding Hank and for some reason... that thought is even more painful than the scraps and cuts that litter my body.

There's... a light in the distance.

"H- hank..." I mutter again, choking out another sob.

It's getting brighter... as well as a low rumbling in the ground.

It sounds like a car.

"Please," I beg, "I need help".

The light is almost blinding now.

And the rumble is so loud, so close and getting closer.

I squint my eyes shut when the light and rumble feels like it's right next to me, wondering if I'm about to get run over, being hidden in a layer of snow.

"Don't let me die," I say again, the words sending another chill down my back.

They're too familiar.

Familiar all too soon.

The rumbling stops coming closer, as if the car was parked.

 _Di_ _d someone stop to help?_  I wonder, worried as to who it might be.

Suddenly, I hear footsteps rush up to me, and as an automatic reaction, I flinch away from the sound and the person attached to it.

"Holy shit! I almost didn't see ya!" a man's voice says, scooping down and picking me up, causing me to unintentionally cry in pain. "Whoa, whoa, hold on... you're okay, kid. I'm gonna help ya,".

_That... that voice._

"Hey... can you hear me?".

I open my eyes slightly.

H%&^NK A&*^ER^ SON

_It... it can't be._

_Can it?_

"-ank?" I mumble, allowing him to pull me closer.

"Ah, thank god you're alive," the man says, "What happened to you... who hurt you?".

I close my eye again, letting my tears flow free.

"S... scrappers" I mutter.

"Fucking hell... they're at it again," he mumbles to himself, pulling me into his lap, "Okay... take it, easy kid... I'm going to find you some help, just stay still".

I can hear Hank shuffle around, supposedly calling for help.

"Fowler? Yeah, it's Anderson. I just found another android left for dead in the middle of the street, call Chris and tell him to send a patrol car out here," he says, holding me a little tighter as if trying to keep me warm, "Said he escaped some scrappers... looks like a ... shit, I have no idea what fucking model he is. But it's a kid, young one".

_I'm..._

_I'm a child?_

That's... not possible.

Is it?

They couldn't have possibly made the next RK- model a child, right?

"I dunno... seems low on battery. I'll take 'em home, charge 'em up and see what he knows. Maybe we can get someone to probe his memory, see if he knows anything because it doesn't seem like he's going to start talking anytime soon".

I shake my head at that statement probing memories being the thing I hated doing the most about my job. It reminds me too much of the android that shot himself on the roof. Later, I found out his name was Simon... the same make and model as Danial. Simon was a friend of Markus, a good and close one. Very close. It... caused a rift between us, caused Markus to grow angry at me despite the fact that I didn't and never intended to kill his friend.

I'd always wondered what memories Simon saw within me...

Death most likely

Death, anger, and fear...

All from deviants.

Like him...

I shutter once more at the bitter memory.

^POWER LEVELS AT 7%^

_No... no, not now._

I squeeze my eyes shut, knowing what happens once that percentage reaches zero.

^FORCED SLEEP MODE IN 5 MINUTES^

I squirm closer to Hank, a whimper escaping my throat.

His hand absently runs through my hair and I shiver.

"Yeah... I need to go, kid's about to do the sleep mode thing" Hank says, quickly shutting his still clearly out of date phone and taking hold of me again, "Alright... I'ma take you home now, kid. That alright?".

I merely hum in response, to caught up with emotion, pain, confusion, and fear to pay much attention to anything.

_Dad..._

_Dad, don't let me go again..._

I feel as he picks me up and carries me back to his car, laying me in the backseat. At first, I refuse to let him go, but... realizing that the sooner I corporate, the sooner I can go home... the sooner I can see Hank... and Sumo. God how I've missed Sumo... right now I really could use one of his big slobbery hugs, and one of Hank's especially.

"It's okay, kiddo... you got a name?".

A timid smile crosses my face, but still, I remain silent.

"Alright... tell me later, you rest now. I'm gonna fix you up, okay? No one's gonna hurt ya anymore".

_Safe_

_Safe..._

_I'm safe._

The car door slams and I lay still on the back seat, still holding my arm as the engine revs and the car begins to move again.

_Home_

_Home..._

_I'm going home._

^POWER LEVELS AT 2%^

Hank...

Sumo...

Home...

I'm going home again.

^NOW ENTERING POWER SAVING MODE^

/\ \/

I close my eyes and fall asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: SUICIDE IDEOLOGY  
> -  
> -

**DOWNTOWN DETROIT- HAROLD'S 24/7 QUICK MART**

**29, JANUARY 2040 - 00:16:32 PM**

**-WINTER-**

* * *

 POV: HANK

* * *

 

"CONNOR!".

The android goes limp in my arms, his eyes flutter closed and his artificial breath faltering before finally becoming non-existent. I watch as his LED, which was continuously flashing an angry red, goes blank on the side of his head. _No... no this isn't happening, not again... I can't lose another one._ "Please, no," I beg softly, my grip tightening on the lifeless bot's hand, still pressed against my face, "Connor... come on kid, don't do this to me".

But Connor is still, his face still with an expression of quiet bliss. His hand is clutching his gut, his hands, shirt, and face, covered with blue blood. From here I can tell the bullet basically obliterated his thirum pump, a vital part of Connor's anatomy, and nearly bi-component everything around it. Even with help on the way, there was little to no chance for his survival. My chest is heavy with guilt and anger, I'm angry at myself for once again not being able to protect the ones I care for the main reason I became a cop in the first place.

"I already call a medic, Hank," Chris says suddenly, rushing up to me from somewhere in the crowd, "Just hold on. They should be here any- oh shit,".

I don't respond, can't really. I'm caught somewhere between blinding rage and overwhelming sadness, silent tears streaming down my face without my knowledge or consent. I hold him tighter, wishing with everything I have that this is a dream, that this isn't happening, that I didn't lose another son. " _Why didn't you listen?!_ " I curse silently through my teeth, trying desperately to hold back a sob, " _You're so stupid, Connor,"._ I hold him, rocking his body slowly in my arms as the tears begin to fall _."Why didn't you listen?"_ I say again, the snow beneath me continues to grow blue. Connor's blood has begun to pool under me soaking through my pants and staining my hands.

It makes me feel ill, but I continue to hold the cold, lifeless android in my arms.

I close my eyes as flashes of the accident force there way into my head, the colors of the blood sprayed around me flickering between red and blue, between Connor and Cole.

Cole is dead.

 Connor is dead.

Everything is numb.

Hands.

Feet.

Face.

Tongue.

"Hank?" Chris says, his voice thin and full of a mix of emotions.

I feel his hand on my shoulder and flinch.

"Hey... take it easy, okay. It's going to be okay".

_It's going to be okay_

_It's going to be okay_

_It's going to be okay_

_It's going to be okay_

_It's going to be okay_

_It's going to be okay_

_It's going to be okay_

_It's going to be okay_

_Dad, Don't let me die, Cole says_

_Don't let me die, Dad, Connor says._

**_DON’T LET US DIE_ **

**_DON’T LET US DIE_ **

**_I DON’T WANT TO DIE_ **

“Hank!”.

I blink and shut my eyes, shaking my head.

The voices in my head ring louder than they have in over a year, and it’s nearly impossible to ignore.

“He’s gone,” I mumble, coldly and distant, “He’s gone and I coulda saved him”.

"Hank… he was shot point blank. Not even a human could survive something like that," Chris says, trying his best to keep a calm demeanor. "Maybe he'll come back? Ya know... like Terminator?"

I know he's just trying to make me feel better... but it's not working.

Connor's not coming back...

This Connor, number 51… was the last of his kind.

This is the thing that Connor dreaded most about his own death if it should ever occur, he knew that, being deviant and cut off from Cyberlife, he wouldn’t be granted a new body. This Connor, number 51… was the last of his kind. The last Connor there’ll ever be.

And it’s my fault he’s dead.

“Hey, if we’re all done weeping over that plastic, I’d like to get home,” Gavin says, cutting through the already cold conversation.

“Shit, Gavin. Have some fucking respect,” Chris says, grumbling in distaste, “Man just lost his son”.

“It’s a fucking piece of plastic, Hank. A machine, meant to be used up and thrown out, it’s not anything more than merchandise. You shouldn’t cry over it… you know what you should cry over? The fact that you almost killed that little girl’s father right in front of her eyes just because your plastic pet got hurt. She’s probably traumatized cause of it. That thing isn’t your son, Hank. _Cole_ was your son… you were just using this thing as a fucking replacement”.

“Gavin!”.

I don’t say anything for a moment, unbelievable anger welling up inside me. “You fucking take that back you asshole,” I yell, snapping up to my feet and grabbing the other man by the shirt, lifting him a few inches off the ground, “You could have called for help, but your bitch ass did nothing! And Connor was just as much my son and Cole was… and _nothing_ could ever replace Cole! You hear me?! NOTHING! Now, give me one fucking good reason why I shouldn’t blow your fucking head off right now”.

The younger detective’s face practically goes white as he strains and struggles in my grasp, chuckling nervously, “Heh, you don’t have the balls”.

“Hank! Put him down okay? I know you’re upset but this isn’t any way to solve it!” Chris says, trying to step in between us.

“Stay outta this, Chris!” I yell again, drawing my gun and pointing it against Gavin’s head, “You feelin’ lucky punk?”.

He stops fighting, a cocky smile on his face as he holds his arms out in surrender, “Do it, Hank,” Gavin says, “I fuckin’ dare ya”.

I grimace, baring my teeth a little as I grip the gun.

“Pakow!” I say, mimicking a gunshot.

The barrel taps against his skull as I drop Gavin to the ground, lowering my gun as well. “Don’t think he didn’t tell me about the time you pulled this same shit. The kid couldn't sleep for a week,”.

My voice is uncharacteristically calm and cold, everybody knows the outburst is coming.

“You’re fucking crazy old man!” he says, attempting to fix his shirt, “I’m gonna go to Fowler with this shit, you’ll get fired for su-”.

I cut him off before he can finish, sending a punch straight to his face. I grumble slightly, satisfied when I hear the soft crunch of his nose breaking against my knuckles. He goes down like a light, Chris watching in half awe and half fear. “Lieutenant,” he says, “You really shouldn’t have done that”.

“He shouldn’t have fucked with me”.

Chris looks down at the now unconscious and bleeding Gavin.

“What do I do?”.

“Tell ‘em he passed out at the sight of all the blood and fell on his face,” I say, walking back over to Connor’s body, “He’s done it before, the prick. He’d believe that”.

“And the Captain?”.

“I don’t give a fuck anymore… just get out of here” I hiss, bending down in the snow and pulling Connor back into my lap, brushing away the soft waves of his synthetic hair, _“I’ve got you, son… it’s okay. Dad’s here”._

Chris sighs and once again places a hand on my shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Take care of yourself, lieutenant. The hostages are safe and other officers will look after Gavin for ya, okay?”.

I don’t say anything, continuing to watch over Connor even though there’s no real need. I just hold him… like I held Cole that fateful night on the highway.

 _“Dad’s here… it’s going to be alright. Everything is going to be alright”_ I whisper blankly, tears continuing to roll down my cheeks as I held his limp body in my arms, “ _Dad’s here, Connor...daddy’s here”._

 

I don’t know how much time passes, but next thing I know there’s another android standing beside me, and a small part of me hopes it’s Connor… coming at me with his cheesy _I’m the android sent by Cyberlife_ shit. But it’s not. The bot that stands beside me is a basic medical unit AP700… four to be exact. two tend to the man I shot while the others tend to Connor.

“Hello…” one of them begins, softly and warm like, “I am here to assist you”.

“He’s dead” I spit, “Fucker over there shot him”.

The girl is silent for a moment, LED flashing a momentary red.

“I’m… very sorry for your loss,” she continues, looking me once over, “We are going to take him to the hospital anyway. Is that alright with you?”

I scoff slightly and nod, hesitantly placing Connor back down in the snow as the androids place him on a stretcher and load him into the back of an ambulance.

“You are injured,” the other AP700 says, pointing to my hand.

I shrug it off, “Just take care of my son would ya?”.

She nods, “Of course, sir”.

With a sigh, I follow Connor into the ambulance, flinching when the door slams shut and the engine starts. It’s on its way to an android hospital, even though I know… we all know… Connor isn’t going to come back, even if they replace his damaged parts. It’s a gruesome and grueling trip, flashing of Cole and Connor flipping in and out of my mind. One second it’s Connor lying on the stretcher, bleeding blue, and the next it’s Cole, bleeding red. And others… they are one in the same. I have to shut my eyes for a majority of the trip, the AP700 having to coax me out of the vehicle once we arrive.

“Is there anything you can do?” I ask, praying to god that there’s at least something that can save him, “Anything at all?”.

The AP700 shakes her head, “I’m afraid not, sir. Usually, when an android dies we can sometimes recover its memory for possible transfer but… he seems to have many safety locks and firewalls protecting any and all retained information. You said he was a prototype, yes?”.

I nod.

“Have you considered contacting Cyberlife? Perhaps they can break through the coding and save him. Until then…”.

I raise an eyebrow waiting for her to finish. “Until then, what?”

The girl sighs.

“What would you like us to do with the body?”.

* * *

 

**DETROIT- ANDROID HOSPITAL**

**29, JANUARY 2040 - 00:19:00 PM**

I’m handed a small back of Connor’s things, his wallet, badge and coin, which was hidden within the pockets of his two-sizes too big jacket. I hold it in my hands, running my thumb over the cold smooth metal, sighing unevenly. I clench my fist slightly and wince, my knuckles bruised and battered from punching Gavin.

“Will you be okay going home alone, Lieutenant?” The android at the front desk asks me as I sign a few forms, allowing the hospital to hold his body until I can set up a proper funeral. _A funeral for my android son,_ I think to myself, _what has the world come to_. Hopefully, the department will give him a traditional police burial… lord knows the kid deserves it.

“I’ll be fine,” I lie, not really knowing what _fine_ is anymore, “I’ll be back in a few days to get him”.

The man at the desk nods and takes the papers back as I hand it to him, “Alright… I’ve already called a taxi to take you back home. Please take care of yourself in the meantime”.

I ignore that statement, tucking the bag into my coat and slinking out of the hospital, the coin still in my hands. I can understand why Connor would play with it so much… it’s oddly relaxing. But now… it just hurts, brings forth far too many painful memories. I tuck it safely in my breast pocket, not wanting to lose such a precious thing, despite the bittersweet memories it holds. A familiar numbness fills my chest and mind as I stand on the side of the road, unsure if I should wait for the taxi or just walk back to the station.

The cold weather would be a welcome distraction from my thoughts and feelings.

_What am I going to do now…_

_What’s the fucking point…_

_I’ve got nothing now._

“God, I need a fucking drink,” I mutter, running my now faded thirium stained hand through my hair, nearly forgetting that it’s there. I haven’t had the urge to drink in months, Connor having helped wean me out of alcoholism. Who’d of thunk he’d be the one to drive me back into that cesspool of self-depreciation and depression.

I force out a dry chuckle and swallow the lump forming in my throat, watching as an automotive taxi pulls up in front of me.

I sigh an hop in, rerouting the destination to Jimmy’s Bar. Haven’t been there in a while… it won’t be too suspicious for me to drink my feelings away again. But part of me knows that I shouldn’t, part of me knows that I should go home, get some proper rest, eat some decent food, but the overwhelming need to revert into my old habits win logic over. I shut my eyes as a memory replays itself in my head, one from the first few weeks after the revolution.

/\

 _“You really shouldn’t drink so much, Lieutenant,”_ Connor said, _“If you continue to drink at the rate you are going, your life expectancy will be cut drastically short”._

 _“That’s the point, asshole”_ I’d said, pouring myself yet another shot of whiskey.

_“I wish you wouldn’t joke like that. Your life does have value, Hank… even if you don’t believe it”._

I huffed, “Who said it’s a joke?”.

_His LED turned red for a moment, and he turns his head as if to shield it from me._

I sighed, _“If you’ve got something to say to me, say it. I’m a grown ass man, I’m pretty sure I can take an insult from an android… been doin’ it for a while now”._

Connor was silent for a moment before he walked up to me, grabbed the glass out of my hand and dumped it on the floor.

_“Hey, what the fuck Connor?!”._

_“I want you to stop drinking,”_ He said, sounding more stern and serious than I’ve ever seen.

_“Well, that’s not how you go about doin’ it okay? Now, fuck off, would ya? Why do ya even care?”._

_“I don’t want you to die, Hank,”_ He continued, _“If you die, I will be alone. And I do not wish to be alone”._

I furrowed my eyebrows, noticing his LED was still red. _“You fucking serious?”._

_“Yes,”._

_“Fuckn’ hell, Connor. I’m not going to die, okay? Not for a long time”._

_“Do you promise?”_ Connor asks, his eyes big and owlish.

Christ this kid is persistent.

_“Kid, I can’t control the natural order of things… but...fuck, I guess I could cut back on the drinking a little. That make you feel better?”._

He nods, LED returning to a soft natural blue.

_“Yes… very much so”_

I chuckle a little and stand up, putting the whiskey bottle back up on the cupboards, _“There… ya happy?”_ I’d muttered turning to Connor to see him… smiling. It was odd and awkward but made me feel pretty damn good. “ _Pfft, fucking android is making me soft”_ I muttered, trying to mask my own smile. _Maybe having an android around wouldn’t be such a bad idea._

\/

Would the same rules still apply now that Connor was gone? Hell, I don’t know. Not much left to live for now… I mean, one of the main reasons I got my shit together was _for_ Connor… not myself. He gave me a reason to live, he gave me a reason to want to be a better father, he gave me that second chance...and now… what do I do? I shut my eyes again and try to shake all these thoughts out of my head, but no matter how hard I try… I can’t escape them.

When the taxi finally pulls to a stop in front of the bar, I stumble out, staggering on my feet despite not even being slightly intoxicated. _I’m going to fix that,_ I think, pushing the bar door open and finding my usual seat up front.

“Woah, surprised to see you here Hank. Good day on the job?” Jimmy asks with a smile, reminding me that I’d come here occasionally for a celebratory drink.

I grumble a little and refuse to answer, watching he moves on and serves me my drink.

“Take that as a no, eh?” he continues, setting out another glass beside mine.

I stare at the blue liquid with a confused stare, “What’s that?”.

“For Connor,”.

_Fuck…_

“I heard the kid going on about how Cyberlife had developed a thirium based drink for androids to get drunk on… figured it’s about time I opened my business up some more. This one’s on me tonight… so, where is he?”.

_Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck._

“Hank?”.

I ignore him and take the shot, slamming the glass back down on the bar.

Jimmy jumps, startled by the noise.

“The fuck, man?”.

“Just shut up and give me another shot, Jimmy,” I snap, “Don’t ask questions”.

Seeming to catch onto my foul mood, Jimmy nods and does as he’s told, pouring me another drink…

“Alright… I’ll bring you a beer,”.

“Make it two,” a voice says from the doorway.

I don’t need to look up to know it’s Fowler, probably staring at me with a disappointed look.

“Jeffery, if you’ve come to fire me, do it on Monday,” I mutter, “I really don’t want to hear your shit right now… just let me grieve in peace”.

“I’m not here to fire you, Anderson,” he says, pulling up a chair beside me, grabbing the beer Jimmy hands him, “Can’t a man have a few drinks with his bud?”.

I scoff, “Bud? We haven’t hung out in years, not since the academy”.

“I know… and I’m sorry about that. But we’re hanging out now so…”.

I simply roll my eyes and take a swig of my beer, trying to ignore him too.

There’s a moment of silence between us, sounds of tonight's game blasting in the background.

“Miller told me what happened today,” Jeffery says, taking hold of his own beer and staring at it, “You going to be okay?”.

“Yeah… I’m going to be just fine,” I spit sarcastically, “My son died in my fucking arms… sure I’m going to be just fine”.

More silence.

“If it means anything, the kid did a good job today,” Fowler says, “He was a damn fine detective too… one of the best”.

“That’s putting it mildly” I mutter taking another swig.

Jeffery chuckles softly and gives me a reassuring pat on the back, squeezing my shoulder.

“I’m going to give you a month off with pay, alright? Take time to yourself… this time you grieve properly instead of forcing yourself to work”.

“Jeffery, you don't-”.

“Trust me… it’s fine… I’ll give Reed a few of your cases in the meantime… maybe that’ll straighten him out a bit, teach him a lesson”.

“Kinda already did that” I mumble behind my drink.

“How about this… you take this vacation and I’ll just happen to lose Reed’s complaints form” he says with a small smile.

I sigh and shake my head.

“Fine…”.

“Atta boy,” Fowler says, taking one last drink from his bottle before standing up, “I brought you your car, ya left it at the scene. Now, come on, let’s get you home”.

“I’m not ready yet,” I say just loud enough for me to hear. _I don’t I’ll ever be ready. How can I go home like nothing happened? Like I didn’t lose my child… how am I going to explain this to Sumo? God, that dog is going to be heartbroken._ Just thinking about walking down that empty hallway, passing what used to be Cole’s old room, and now Connor’s old room send a sharp pain through my chest.

“Hank?”.

“I can drive myself, Fowler,” I say, finishing off the last bit of my beer, signaling Jimmy for another one, “I don’t need you to babysit me”.

“I’m concerned, Hank… that’s all,” he says, patting me on the back again, “Just don’t drink too much alright, roads are slippery tonight”.

All I can do is mutter a half-assed response.

“Take care of yourself”.

 _I don’t know if I can anymore,_ I admit, nursing my second beer of the night.

* * *

 

**DETROIT- JIMMY’S BAR**

**29, JANUARY 2040 - 00:21:46 PM**

I leave the bar three hours and 4 and a half beers later, once again staggering outside into the cold. My mind and chest is heavy with anger and grieve, all I want to do is forget… forget Connor ever existed, forget Cole ever existed forget that anything ever happened. I know that’s a horrible thing to say about my sons but I don’t know what else to do… what else to feel. I force myself into my car, dreading the drive home, but I know… eventually… I’d have to go back.

“Alright, Hank…” I mutter taking a few deep breaths before shoving the key in the ignition, “You got this… nice and slow”.

Once I turn on the engine, I sigh, “You ready to go, Con-”.

I pause, cutting my words off… they were said out of pure instinct… the android having always been at my side. I clench my jaw and shut my eyes, trying desperately not to cry again, but I honestly don’t think there’d be enough tears in the world to match how I’m feeling.

Two Sons…

Two children not long for this world.

A Boy Who Never Reached Manhood And A Man Who Never had a Childhood.

It’s a fucking tragedy.

I pull away from the bar without another word, driving blindly through the snowy streets of Detroit, my hands shaking and my mind swimming.

All I can think of is… Why?

Why me?

What did I do to deserve both my son’s death?

Is this my punishment for something?

Living knowing that I failed them both?

I grip the steering wheel harder.

Why can’t I just be happy?

That’s all I want, that’s all I ever wanted.

I just wanted to be okay with what happened to Cole, except that there wasn’t anything I could have done to prevent it. But now with Connor, it is all my fault. I should have stopped him… if I did he’d be sitting right here next to me with that dumb, awkward smile, doing his stupid coin tricks. Instead, he’s locked in the basement of the hospital, out of sight, out of view... out of mind. It’s like the world is trying to make me forget him.

I push on the gas a little harder, and the car goes faster.

Maybe… part of me wants to forget. I’d make things a hell of a lot easier just to forget that Connor ever existed. But I can't forget and I never will… and that’s the hardest part of it all.

No matter how hard I try, I’m never going to be able to forget and move on from this.

Even if I consider going to Cyberlife to save him, who’s to say they won't fuck around with his memories, continue to try to resume control of their precious test subject? It’s a risk I’m not willing to take, and if somehow they do return him to me, it won't be Connor. It won’t be the real Connor, _my_ Connor. It’d just be a piece of plastic with his face on it. It won’t be my son.

 _“Fuck...”_ I mutter, wiping away more tears as I fight the overwhelming urge to just give up now, _“Fuck, Connor… why you? Why not me?_ ”.

I’d take his place in a heartbeat, in a fucking heartbeat, both Cole, and Connor.

I’d give my little Cole the chance to grow up into the man I wish he could be, and I’d give Connor the chance to live the life he’d fought so hard and nearly died for.

But Cole would be alone with no one to raise him.

And Connor...

_*sigh*_

The kid wouldn’t last a week without me…

He’s sorta made it a point that he doesn’t really have a reason to live if I’m gone, his new self-proclaimed purpose being taking care of and being my friend, someone to lean on, someone to count on, someone to have drinks with, someone to work with, and someone to call ‘son’.

It always scared me when he talked like that… so I made him promise he wouldn’t bring any harm to himself no matter what happens, if I die on the job, on my own or even by my own hand, I made him promise that he’d keep on living for the person that mattered the most… himself.

Who knows if Connor would have actually listened, being the stubborn android he was.

But I guess it doesn’t matter.

All I can hope to do is follow my own words… and keep on living for myself.

Eventually, I find myself in front of my house… the lights are off and the house looks empty and cold. Just like I feel. I can hear Sumo barking from inside, having already heard my car pull up the drive. He’d be waiting for Connor to take him on a walk, having had postponed it when we got called in.

I shut my eyes and place my head against the wheel, wincing when I accidentally sound the horn.

_Get out of the car, Hank…_

_That’s all you have to do._

I pull away and sigh, pulling my key free from the ignition.

_Open the door, get out of the car._

_Easy…_

I push the door open and slowly lift myself out of the vehicle, using the siding to hold myself up.

_Easy, easy…_

I make my way up to the front of the car, my hand pressing over a dent in the front paneling. For a moment, I pause… staring at it intently. Despite having a literal supercomputer in his head, Connor doesn’t make a good driver… I doubted the kid had ever seen a car like mine before we met, doubt they still existed. But alas, trying to teach an android to drive stick is more difficult than I thought, and teaching Connor, the most high-strung, anxiety-ridden, nervous kid I’d ever met made the task twice as hard but ten times as funny.

Pfft, the first thing he did was drive the car straight into the mailbox.

A small smile lifts the edge of my lips as I run my hand over the small dent the incident left… but the smile doesn’t last when I realize that I won’t get any more memories like that… or, any at all.

“ _Fuck,”_ I mutter, continuing to force my way to the house and up the slippery steps, using the side of the building for more support. I manage to get the door unlocked and opened as I stagger inside, having to push Sumo away as he tries to tackle me, probably displeased that we’d left him alone for so long.

_Woof_

_Woof_

_Woof,_ he barks.

“Leave me alone, Sumo,” I say, immediately making my way into the kitchen where I grab a bottle of whiskey I’d left hidden in the back of the cabinet, “I’m not in the mood”.

He obeys… and moves straight to the door, scratching at the wooden frame.

_Bark_

_Bark_

_Bark Bark_

_Bark_

He’s waiting for someone.

For Connor.

_Bark_

_Bark_

_Bark_

_Bark_

“He’s not coming back,” I mutter, popping the cap off the bottle, taking a long swig as the liquid burns down my throat, leaning against a wall and slowly letting myself slide down to the floor.

Sumo continues to bark, and I continue to drink.

_Bark_

 Drink

_Bark_

 Drink

_Bark_

 Drink

I continue this pattern for over half an hour until the bottle is nearly empty and my nerves nearly shot.

The dog rushes up to me after a while, realizing something is very wrong, that Connor simply isn’t running late. _Woof, woof,_ Sumo barks, ramming his large head against my legs, trying to pull my attention to the door. He whines softly and continues to bark, _woof woof!_

“Hush!” I snap growing annoyed at his constant whining even though I know he can’t help it. I take another wig and push him away, feeling anger start to bubble up in my head. I’m already drunk and angry… this is just making it worse.

Sumo continues to bark, this time grabbing the fabric of my pants, tugging and pulling at me.

_Bark_

_Bark_

_Bark Bark_

_Bark_

After a moment, I snap, yelling as I throw the bottle of whiskey clear across the room, watching as it shatters against a wall. “SHUT UP!” I scream, “He’s not coming back! Do you understand me?! Connor is dead! He’s not fucking coming back, he’s not coming back!”.

Sumo flinches and yelps when the glass shatters, looking up at me as if I were crazy…

Maybe I am…

He lets out a soft woof, scared and confused by my words.

Tears start to stream down my cheeks as I continue to yell, “He’s gone, Sumo. He’s dead… Connor is dead!”.

The more and more I admit it… the more and more I can’t handle the reality.

“He’s dead!”.

**Connor is dead.**

“He’s not going to come back!”.

**He’s not coming back.**

“We’re never going to see him again!”

**I’m never going to see my son again.**

“I…” I choke on my words, a sob catching in my throat, “I can’t handle it”.

The world is spinning, blinking in and out of existence and I can tell I'm about to blackout... but I don’t want to. I don't want to wake up in a world where I’m alone again. I don’t want to live in a world without Cole or Connor.

I don’t want to live anymore.

I continue to sob, gripping my hair as I try to pull myself out of this state.

 _Live for_ **_him_ ** _, Hank… live for both of them._

But the words don’t make a difference.

And that terrifies me.

I need to get out of here…

Sitting here crying on the floor for god knows how long is going to help me… but running away isn’t helping either.

But what choice do I have?

Everything Connor has done for me… I’m going to throw all that away with the pull of a trigger.

I need to get out of here…

Sumo, who’d given up on his attempts to find the absent Android, turns his attention to me, whining and nuzzling my hands, probably sensing my utter dilemma. “He’s gone, Sumo…” I cry, grabbing on to the big saint bernard as I cry, “He’s really gone… my boy is gone”.

I need to get out of here…

The dog whines and nuzzles closer to me, seeming to get the gist of my words and what the mean.

“It’s my fault… I should have stopped him”.

            _"Please, Dad"._

His last words ring in my head, over and over.

I cry harder, trying to push the anger and anxiety down.

    “I’m so sorry, Connor,” I say, “I’m so so sorry”.

A familiar numbness fills my body as I cry, my hands and body shaking.

I need to get out of here…

“I need to get out of here,”.

“I can’t do this anymore…”

* * *

 

**DETROIT- HOME**

**30, JANUARY 2040 - 00:02:15 AM**

I don’t know how long I sit there crying, but at some point, I open my eyes and see the pitch blackness of my kitchen, Sumo still sitting loyally next to me. The pain is ever present and becoming too much to handle with each passing second. Blowing a puff of warm air over my face, I slowly force myself up to my feet, swaying unevenly and I use the wall for support.

The soft _woof_ of Sumo beside me is enough to tell me that he’s following closely. “Good, dog,” I mutter absently, patting the top of his head as I make my way over to my room. I get a few steps down the hallway, having to ignore the dim glow of the fish tank as I pass Connor’s room.

_Don’t think about it…_

_Soon, you won’t have to._

I shut my eyes and sigh, pushing forward.

Once I’m in the room, I go straight for my dresser, opening the top drawer and pulling out the small handgun I keep in there, having left my work issued revolver at the crime scene.

This would have to do.

Sumo looks up at me and whines, knowing what the ‘game’ I’m about to play entities, except this time there would be no game… just the real thing.

I look down at the dog and flash him a broken smile. “It’s okay, Sumo… everything is going to be okay”. Pulling my attention back to the gun, I open the chamber and find I have a single bullet, left over from the night we went to the murder at the Eden Club.

 

               “ _You were lucky, Lieutenant,”_ Connor had said, _“The next shot would have killed you”_

 

In that moment, I’d been upset that this single bullet hadn’t ended my life... but in the long run, I was glad it didn't.

Life is fucking funny that way.

After Cole died I lost my reason live, but then along came Connor and I found that reason again… but now that he’s gone I have nothing… no one I care for. I close my eyes and look at the gun again, giving the barrel a quick spin.

 _“If androids have a heaven… I hope you’re there, Connor_ ” I whisper, hoping that, if there even is such a thing as the afterlife for both humans and androids, that we’d be able to meet again, “ _I’m sure Cole would like to meet his little brother_ ”.

I sigh and click the gun closed, shutting the drawer and exiting the room with a little bit of misplaced determination. Sumo follows closely, whining anxiously at me, nudging my legs again. He knows what’s going on, but he doesn’t know what to do about it.

I get back to the kitchen and place the handgun on the counter. _Not here,_ I decide, not wanting to put Sumo through this, “You’re a good boy, Sumo. You know that?”.

He wags his tail and woofs softly.

“Good boy”.

I blink slowly, looking around the empty, dark house.

With a sigh, I stumble over to where I through my whiskey bottle, quickly and carelessly cleaning up the shattered glass with my hands, that way Sumo will be safer once I’m gone. I need to keep in mind Connor’s fish too, I’d hate if something bad happened to them because of me, so I make a mental note to leave a letter asking whoever finds it to take care of the animals.

It never occurred to me to leave a letter or anything like that… it’s not like anyone would miss or go looking for me (aside from Sumo of course) but now… I feel as if it’s something I should do.

Like I owe it to people to let them know what happened.

Why I’m doing this…

Even if the reason is obvious.

“ _It’s okay, Hank…”_ I mutter, taking the broken glass and throwing it out, ignoring the blood that seeps through the cuts on my hands, _“Soon it won't matter”_.

Once I’m finished cleaning the glass, I wash my hands, feeling the itch of the now invisible thirium on my skin, mixed in with my own blood.

    Numb…

 Everything is….

             Blissfully numb…

I almost enjoy it, but the small voice is trying to stop me but it’s just not enough… this has been a long time coming. I dry my hands and wrap a towel around the cuts to stop the bleeding before finally dragging my ass over to the table, flicking on the light and grabbing a spare sheet of paper and pen left lying there.

_What do I write? And to whom?_

I guess it doesn’t really matter. Once someone realized I’m missing, people will come looking, and when they come looking they’ll find this. So, with a defeated sigh, I press the pen to the paper and begin to write.

 

_To Whom It May Concern-_

                                        My sons are gone.

                 Not much left for me here

                                 Please take care of Sumo and the fish.

                           I’m sorry everyone

 

                                                  _-Jenny Forgive Me_

 

I leave an address at the bottom beside my name, suddenly aware of the damp spots collecting on the paper. I wipe the tears away quickly and sigh sharply, wondering if I should just scrap the note. “ _I’m so sorry, Jenny”_ I whisper, having not uttered that name in years, “ _I just can’t do this again”._ After a moment, I leave the note on the table, in a place where it can easily be found and be sure to fill Sumo’s food bowl, unsure of how long he might be alone.

“Be a good boy, okay?” I tell him, patting his large head with a rough hand, “You know I love you right?”.

He woofs softly, pressing his head further into my hand as if to get a little bit more affection out of me before turning to his food. “Good boy,” I mutter, stalking off to Connor’s room, pausing at the threshold.

This was Cole’s room…

It’d taken a few months for me to build up the courage to actually clean it out and let Connor sleep here, feeling bad that I’d basically forced him to reside on the couch. He didn’t mind staying there, acting like the room was something too precious to me to even think about taking it over. I’d reassured him that it wasn’t a big deal and that he should have a room of his own, with is own things.

Huh, the kid was confused as to why I was being so kind to him, allowing him to stay with me. It was kinda sad that he didn’t understand the concept of _‘finding a family’_ or even the fact that he’d become _part_ of me and Sumo little family.  Huh, poor Connor thought just because he was a bit different and new to the whole _‘being human’_ thing, he couldn’t be part of a family.

          But I assured him...

              

                           “ _Family can be anything, Connor. It could be an old grizzled cop, his robot son, and a big wooly dog”._

 

That was the first time I called Connor my son, and it sent a shock to us both. I just wish… I just wish I’d called him that more often. It’s just another thing I’d never be able to repent for.

I sigh and take a step into his room, stepping over a few books Connor’d left lying around. His fish (I never could keep track of what species they were) were a gift from me to him on his first birthday, a special surprise that ended up in the android practically bouncing off the walls with glee and excitement. He’d named the bright colorful tropical fish Amelia, Rose, and Blaire, never really explaining the reasoning behind the names other than _‘it felt right’_.

Closing my eyes again, I grab the small carton of their food, sprinkling just the right amount inside the water, watching as the fish shoot out of their hiding places and start munching on the flakey pellets.

“Silly fish,” I mutter, softly patting the edge of the tank, “I’ll miss you too”.

I close my eyes for a moment, grabbing the coin I’d tucked away in my pocket and placing it beside the tank.

 

With everything finally in place, I leave the room exactly how I left it, making my way back into the kitchen and grab the gun I’d left lying there. One shot, one pull of the trigger, and it’d all be over, as complicated and as simple as that. Heaving yet another sigh, I give my last goodbyes to Sumo, kissing him on the head and thanking him for being such a good dog, sticking with me through the worst of the worst.

“I’ll miss you boy,” I say, standing up and walking to the door, watching as he follows me. I shoo him away, telling him that he can’t come with me on this journey and step out the door. Sumo cries, barks, and whines from behind the now closed and locked door, but I sadly ignore it and walk back to my car and simply sit there for a moment, letting the bitter cold chip away at my tear-stained face. I take one last look at the house, remembering when I first bought it, how new the paint smelled and how bright the future seemed. Now there’s nothing left inside but ghosts.

The engine starts without a problem and I begin my drive to the address left on the letter, wanting people to at least know where the body is. Perhaps I should call someone too, just so parents won't find a frozen dead man on their way to the park with their children… it’s needless to put more people through a trauma like that. Thankfully, the roads are empty so no one can see the slight swerving of my car since I’m still slightly drunk. Being a cop and all, I know I should be more careful, I know I should Know better, but the roads are bare of all other traffic and I really could care less about my own safety considering what I’m about to do.

I close my eyes and rub away the tears, which have been streaming down my face for god knows how long. The gun is beside me on the passenger seat, sitting there and glistening slightly in the moonlight… the park seemed like an appropriate place to do it, it's a special place for Cole and I, and an… odd place for Connor. I’d nearly shot him that night, something I still greatly regret, but… that was also the night I began to realize that there was more to Connor than met the eye. It was as if, he was pre-made with emotions, but he chose to live in denial about who he really was. The emotions were there, but… he was repressing them, the ‘deviancy’ in him occasionally popping up when he was faced with a difficult decision. And everything clicked on the TV station roof, with his infamous line:

 

 _“I felt it_ ** _die..._** _like_ ** _I_** _was_ **_dying._** _I was_ ** _SCARED_** _”_

 

He sounded so broken about it and I wish I’d done more to make him feel better other than get pissed he's disobeyed my orders, which honestly should have been the first sign of his deviancy. I mean, Connor was just a kid, 3 months old at that point, and he’d already been shot full of holes multiple times. No wonder the poor kid was scared of the damn things, refusing to have one on him unless absolutely necessary.

I shouldn’t be thinking about this… not right now. Just thinking about Connor covered in his own blood makes me feel sick, and the alcohol makes it worse. “Don’t worry, son,” I say, “I’ll see you both soon”.

Another sigh, as I look back up at the road.

And I barely have enough time to slam on the breaks.


	4. Chapter 4

/MEMORY REPLAY: INITIATING

-/-/- BEGIN SIMULATION

* * *

 

I'm on the floor.

         The sky is white.

                Snowflakes fall on my face.

                                                                  It’s peaceful.

*gunshot*

_"Connor!"._

There's blood all around me.

                      It stains the snow blue.

                                           It's my own.

*gunshot*

Derik.

        He shot me.

                                                                                                                                                             *gunshot*

                                                                                                  *gunshot*

Blood.

         So much blood.

**_"Connor!"_ **

_Dad..._

                      Hank rushes up to me.

                                             He holds me.

_"Don't... don't fucking do this to me. Die and I'll never fucking forgive you, you plastic asshole!"._

   

RA9 SAVE US

Death...

           I can feel it coming...

_Dad, please..._

**Wake Up**

_I don’t wanna go-_

**Wake Up**

**Wake Up**

The sky is so pretty…

         But it’s fading so fast...

RA9 SAVE US

_Hank!?_

**WAKE UP!**

* * *

-/-/-/ ENERGY LEVEL ... **FULL**

**WAKE UP PROTOCOL: ACTIVATED**

**!CAUTION!**

**-/-/ RIGHT VISUAL BI-COMPONENT DAMAGED**

**> FIXABLE**

**-/-/ BI- COMPONENT #1649a DAMAGED**

**> FIXABLE**

**-/-/THIRIUM LEVELS… LOW**

I jolt awake, a scream stuck in my throat as I open my eyes and find my vision is obscured by multiple warning signs. My thirium pump is pounding hard, making my pulse way faster than it needs to be, and the sensation makes my hands feel almost numb. I gasp a little and sit up, feeling as if I can’t get any air, even though I technically don’t need it… it’s just something I do that makes me seem more alive. It makes me feel alive.

I am alive.

I take a breath in and swallow, waiting for my stress levels to return to normal before finally blinking a few times to swat away the warning signs that block out my vision. As I go to lift my arm, I wince as pain shoots all through the appendage and spreads halfway up my shoulder. A small pathetic whimper escapes my lips as I move my hand up to my arm, feeling the smooth metal under the rough fabric of my shirt.

_Oh… god._

_It wasn’t a dream._

Yesterday… all that actually happened.

The scrappers...

The van escape...

The negotiation…

Dying…

I swallow the lump in my throat.

The negotiation really did fail and I really did get shot.

I… remember lying on the floor, a hole in my stomach.

Hank was there beside me, holding me as I bled out.

He was crying…

I…

Hank, he...

 _"Don't... don't fucking do this to me. Die and I'll never fucking forgive you, you plastic asshole!"_.

I shut my eyes and whimper, the words leaving a physical sting in my chest. Grabbing a handful of my shirt, I clench my hand into a fist and choke on a sob. He… he couldn't have meant that, right? He said it because he was scared I wouldn't come back… right? Frankly, I didn't know I could come back without being returned to my 'machine state' but here I am.

A deviant…

And a child.

Hank would have to forgive me… right?

It’s not like I meant to get shot, I just… froze.

My LED is a solid red at this point and my stress levels are going up with each new thought that enters my head.

I take a breath.

_Does… does this mean he doesn't want to be my dad anymore?_

_Am I even still his son?_

He didn't seem to recognize me, so I assume the model I was placed in has a vastly different appearance than any currently known models.

A few tears stream down my face as I sniffle.

Maybe he doesn't know I can come back.

Maybe things will be okay.

Things will go back to normal.

So why am I still crying?

I just need to tell him what happened, tell him who I am.

**WARNING STRESS LEVEL 40%**

Fear

     Anxiety

            Panic

                Hopelessness.

These are all emotions I’ve felt before, but now it feels as if they are amplified, becoming close to being overwhelming. I guess whatever processor this android’s model has, it’s has a lot fewer restrictions than my previous form had, hence giving me the temperament and mental age close to that of a child.

In other words…

I can’t control them.

_Deep breaths,_

_In...  Out..._ _  
_ _In...  Out..._

I need to get Hank.

Just get him, and everything will be okay.

No matter the consequences.

Slowly, I pull myself over to the side of the bed, my eyes scanning the room.

Everything is the same as when I left it, my fish tank is in the corner, Amelia, Rose, and Blaire; the Dwarf Gouramis; all swimming around their tank, dodging in and out of the faux foliage.

It’s normal…

Familiar.

**WARNING STRESS LEVEL 37%**

My feet touch the soft carpet beneath me, the sensors in my skin sending a warm tingle down my back. I set my sights on the door across the room, seeing it’s been left a crack open. _It’s okay, Connor… it’s just a few steps… it’s not going to kill you_.

Just get Hank, and this will all be over.

I push myself up to my feet, struggling to keep my balance despite my gyroscope is fully intact.

 _In...  Out..._ _  
_ _In...  Out…_

As I take a step, I can’t stop myself from swaying dangerously, my legs feeling like they can barely support me. I flop back down on my bed roughly, sending another onslaught of warnings through my head.

Thankfully, I don’t have any serious injuries that require immediate attention… at least not yet. The only thing that is overly concerned is the low thirium levels and damage to my optical unit. My arm can easily be fixed in stasis mode, which… is going to take a bit longer considering the size of the bi-component. I’m going to need to fix it soon.

Swatting the warnings away once more, I struggle getting to my feet again, so resulting to sliding down on the floor and crawling over to the door, finding this only slightly easier. _It’s okay,_ I say, despite tears overflowing from my eyes as I use the wall for support as I force myself up to my feet, reaching for the door, _Hank is going to fix everything._

My hand is on the knob, ready to pull it open when a thought enters my mind.

 **What if he rejects you?**  The voice says in my head.

When this had first happened, I nearly lost it, going into a full blown panic attack in the fears that Amanda had returned to take me over. But with some help from Hank, I discovered that the voice inside my head was my conscious. I’m not sure if androids can even have a conscious, considering that (technically speaking of course) we don’t have souls.

But, the voice does bring up a good point.

I doubt that would happen but...

_What if Hank rejects me?_

Hank isn’t exactly the one to make threats and not keep them.

I sob again, sad and pitiful.

**WARNING STRESS LEVELS 45%**

I nearly died more than a few times during that week leading up to the revolution, and each time, Hank was just glad I’d survived. I really don’t know or want to know what his reaction would be to me showing up alive and well after dying before his eyes, in his arms. How can he care for someone who can come back from the dead over and over again, when the person he loved the most died once and that was it.

Why should I live multiple times when Cole only got to live once?

 

 **Don’t tell him,** the voice continues **.**

_What?_

**You can’t tell Hank who you are…**

**Spare him the heartbreak…**

**He doesn’t deserve that pain, does he?**

I swallow the lump in my throat and take another breath to try and relax, cradling my injured arm. Maybe… maybe I’m right. Maybe, if I just keep quiet, Hank won't get hurt. Plus, it’d be odd for a random android he’s never met before to know everything about him.

Who’s to say he’d believe me in the first place?

But lying… to my dad?

Not telling him that his other son is still alive?

That’s…

Wrong…

But what choice do I have?

I can’t lose Hank like that...

_I’m sorry, dad…_

**You’re doing the right thing, Connor.**

**Trust that this is the right thing to do.**

I nod again, listening to my own instinct and gut feeling.

 _This is the right thing to do,_ I tell myself, trying to believe the words are true, _This is the right thing to do._

**NEW OBJECTIVE ADDED:**

**-DON’T TELL HANK**

“Okay…”.

Closing my eyes, I go to pull the door open again, only to find it’s not me doing the motion. Is the door opening on its own? No… someone is pushing it open… and I recognize the heavy footfalls and slobbery breathing. I find myself smiling even though I get knocked back when the large St. Bernard barges into my room

I yelp at first, the impact with the ground making my injuries scream in pain, but I ignore it, my arm immediately shooting around the large dog’s neck, holding him tightly. “Hello, Sumo,” I whisper, burying my face in his thick fur, “It’s very nice to see you again”.

The dog barks and licks me over the face, sending an odd spark of warmth through my body, almost like a laugh but… smaller.

I giggle.

“Good dog”.

He simply grunts and rams his big head into my chest, licking at my tear stained cheeks.

After a moment, I hear Hank rush over to my room, calling for the dog who clearly isn’t supposed to be bothering me. “Goddamnit, Sumo! Get out of there! You’re gonna scare the shit outta- Oh… you’re awake”.

I look up to see Hank standing in the doorway, his hair long and unkempt, and pajamas damp with sweat. His eyes have dark circles under them, so I can tell that he hasn’t had much sleep in a while.

[X] GREET

[O] TELL HANK

I swallow, and look at him, gently pushing Sumo away.

He looks the same as when we first met…

Tired…

Angry…

Sad…

Broken…

Lost…

Hank looks like a man who just lost his son.

He looks like one more shock could break him.

But this time, all that is hidden behind a mask of faux happiness.

**You’re doing the right thing.**

**Don’t tell Hank.**

I force myself to give him a shy, timid smile.

**[X] GREET**

~~[O] TELL HANK~~

“Hello,”.

He stares at me for a moment, looking over at Sumo who has himself laying across my small lap, “I see you’ve met Sumo”.

I smile a little, deciding to play dumb.

“He’s a big dog”.

“He sure is… So uh, you had quite the night yesterday, eh?”.

I nod, not really ready to remember what last night entailed.

“You okay? Your arm got a little fucked up,” Hank says, gesturing to me.

I look down, getting a good look at the clothes I’m in, feeling my metaphorical stomach drop. I’m in a light grey jumpsuit with a big glowing blue triangle on the left breast pocket, the words “CYBERLIFE” written across the chest. I look filthy and ragged, spots of faded thirium staining the fabric.   _Why… why am I in a Cyberlife uniform?_ I think, trying not to panic even though my stress levels have shot up again. It looks relatively brand new, the fabric is torn and ripped, darkened from my impact with the road and the overall condition the room I was found in, but other than that it’s brand new.

I take an unsteady breath and say, “I’m fine”.

“Sure you are…” Hank says, using his duly sarcastic tone, pointing to the spot on his forehead where an LED would be, “I have some spare parts if you need ‘em…”.

_My spare parts._

“But uh… not sure they’re compatible with your model though”.

“Okay,” I whisper, not even sure what model I am.

That information seems blocked to me.

An awkward moment of silence passes between us.

“So are you going to just sit there or…”.

I blink, suddenly remembering that I am immobilized, and not just because Sumo is on top of me.

“I- I appear to be low on thirium…that limits my movements”.

Hank chuckles, “So you’re stuck?”.

I nod again.

“I am”.

“Heh, alright. I should have some spare thirium lying around,” He says, walking up to me and shooing Sumo away, “Is it okay if I pick you up? I know some of you guys are touch sensitive or some shit”.

“It’s okay,” I say, unintentionally reaching my hands up to him, waiting for him to lift me up, “You can pick me up”.

_Odd…_

_Child instincts are weird._

_I really want to hug him right now…_

“Alright, hold on tight, kid,” Hank says, bending down and scooping me up.

I yelp again when he lifts me up off the ground, having never actually been picked up, or experienced anything like this. My arm go around his neck and I close my eyes at the sudden height and motion.

“Don’t drop me,” I mutter.

“I won’t,” He says, walking out of the room and over to the couch in the living room, Sumo immediately following us, barking and sniffing at my feet, “Heh, Sumo seems to like you”.

I nod again.

“I like dogs”.

Hank…

Hank freezes when I say that.

And I realize why.

_Uh, oh…._

**Don’t Tell Hank…**

**You can’t let Hank know who you are!**

“My uh, my sons liked dogs too,” He says softly, his face betraying his feelings of hurt as he sets me down, “Do you have favorite kind of dog?”.

I look down and shrug, knowing that if I say anything more, I’d just end up hurting him more. The air is silent except for Sumo’s heavy breathing and playful grunts as he tries to regain my attention. Part of me wonders if he can tell that it’s me inside this android’s body, dogs are smart like that, or he’s just being his normally friendly self.

“Not very talkative, are ya?”.

I shake my head, wanting to apologize but the words refusing to leave my mouth.

“Well, I should probably introduce myself,” He says, “I’m Hank, I’m a police officer, okay? I’m going to help you figure out who tried to kidnap you, but you gotta work with me. Can you tell me your name?”.

It’s pretty clear that I don’t, considering I’m still in a newish CyberLife outfit, looking like I just rolled off the assembly line. I close my eyes and sigh, not knowing what to do.

“Do you have a name?”.

So in the end, I shake my head.

“No… I don’t”.

**STRESS LEVELS 62%**

“That’s okay...” Hank says in a softer voice, noticing the shift of color in my LED, “Would you like me to give you one?”.

I nod and take a ragged breath, making my hands into fists as anxiety fills my chest.

“Yes, please”.

“Okay… I’m gonna get you your thirium and think of a name. Just sit here with Sumo for a while, alright? The bathroom is down the hall in case you wanna clean yourself up”, Hank says gesturing down the hallway, “I don’t know about clothes but I’ll look for something”.

I nod and breathe again.

“Okay”.

“Alright…” He pats me on the shoulder and stands up, moving to the kitchen.

That’s when I notice the slightest limp in his walk.

“You’re limping,” I say without thinking.

Hank stops.

“What?”.

My face gets warm and I’m pretty sure I’m doing what humans call _blushing._

I point to his leg.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude,” I say quickly, knowing that I’m getting dangerously close to revealing myself.

“No… no, it’s fine,” he says, “I just didn’t think it was that noticeable”.

I hold my tongue for a moment.

“What happened?”.

Hank sighs sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “ _Oh Christ, I forgot how curious you fuckers are,_ ” he whispers, looking down at me with mild annoyance, “It’s from an accident a couple of years ago, okay? It’s an old injury, I’m getting old and things just don’t heal like they used to… Now, no more questions”.

I swallow hard, seemingly holding my breath.

“Sorry,”.

He groans a bit and goes back to the kitchen.

“It’s fine… just, don’t ask about it anymore, m’kay?”.

I nod.

“Okay”.

**HANK**

**\- TENSE^**

I blink.

I wasn’t aware of any injuries Hank had sustained from the accident with Cole, but who knows, perhaps he’s right… the injury may have just presented itself after a few years of sitting dormant, almost like arthritis.

My stress level shoots up another 2% when he leaves my line of sight, but I’m glad that Sumo can tell that I’m not okay. The large dog jumps up on the couch and once again licks at my face, leaving the synthetic skin covered with thick sticky saliva.

_Woof_

_Woof!_

I blink a few times and hold onto him again, feeling as tears once again spill from my eyes. This is going to be a lot harder to do that I’d originally thought. My stress level is going to go up more and more with each lie I tell, and if it gets too high, well.

I can’t let that happen.

I just need to be strong.

I want to be there for Hank…

I can still see how much he’s hurting…

And it hurts knowing that it’s all my fault.

Sumo whines a little bit when I let out an unintentional sob, hating how much more intense my emotions are now. When I was an adult, the feeling were there… they were tolerable, and most of the time, I refused to acknowledge them, now… now it’s just too much.

_You can do this, Connor._

_Just hold on a little bit longer, and everything will be alright._

“I can do this,” I mutter, turning my attention to Hank, who rummages around the kitchen, “I can do this”.

Hank remains quiet while he prepares what I realize is a warm cup of thirium, something I greatly enjoyed as an adult, the beverage making me feel a little more human around the busy office at work. I keep an eye on him, happy to see that his blood alcohol level doesn’t seem to have changed all that much, so he didn’t get drunk last night. And his health is overall the same, telling me that he hasn’t tried to bring harm to himself.

**He’s okay, Connor**

**He’s fine without you…**

“Once you're done with your thirium, I’m going to have to drive you down to the station, okay?” Hank says suddenly, making me jump a little, “You’re going to need to make a statement about what you saw, so we can file a report. We’ve been trying to catch these scrappers for a while now”.

“O- okay,” I say, slightly confused that he’s going to work considering the events of last night. But then again, Hank does have quite a few unhealthy coping mechanisms so who’s to say overworking himself to deal with the pain isn’t one of them. _He’s okay,_ I tell myself again, drying my eyes and keeping myself grounded by holding Sumo.

_He’s okay._

**STRESS LEVELS 49%**

After a moment, Hank returns with a mug of steaming thirium and hands it to me. “There you go, kiddo,” he says, sighing as he settles into the recliner beside the couch. “My son used to love that shit,” he mutters softly, his voice low and thoughtful, “Looks pretty fucking gross to me”.

I look at him, a pain of guilt shooting through my chest.

**You’re doing the right thing, Connor.**

“I like it,” I say, pulling the warm blue liquid up to my lips. It’s odd, I half expect to see a notification giving me the list of ingredients in the thirium once it passes over my tongue, but then I remember that I am no longer in my highly advance RK800 body. “It’s really warm”.

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, “Pfft, I’m sure it is. Anyways, first things first… a name,”.

I nod, watching as he scratches at his scruffy beard.

“How about… Aiden?”.

I scrunch up my nose, figuring it's going to be difficult taking on a new name considering I already have one.

“Uh-uh”.

“Max?”.

I shake my head.

“Danial?”.

I sputter on my blue blood, and since I can’t choke, I make a coughing sound instead, startled by the name.

“I take that as a no then…” Hank says, furrowing his eyebrows in suspicion, “Was that someone you know?”.

I blink again as sigh unevenly, “I guess you can say that”.

Hank stares at me again, tapping his chin.

“How about, Alex?”.

“Alex?” I repeat.

Hank shrugs, “You look like an ‘Alex’ to me”.

_How I look?_

_I have no idea how I actually look._

**It doesn’t really matter, does it?**

**You can just reset your name…**

**Simple as that.**

“Alex,” I say again, a timid smile pulling at the edge of my lips despite the feelings unnerve that is settling in my chest. “I like it,”.

**STRESS LEVELS 53%**

Hank nods and sits up, walking back towards my (old) room, “Alex it is then. Now, I’m going to see if I can find something for you to wear… doubt my son’s old clothes will fit you”.

_Cole’s clothes…_

_My old ones are far too large for my small frame…._

“Okay…”.

“Go on and clean yourself up. I don’t think the office would much appreciate me bringing in a kid covered in his own blood, even if it is invisible to humans”.

I nod again and push Sumo off my lap.

“Okay…”.

Hank gives me a forced smile, his jaw, and lips drawn in a tight line.

I can tell from the dim look in his eyes how hard this is for him, and how hard he’s trying to keep himself from falling apart. Interacting with children is always difficult for him, he’d tense up and become almost robotic with his emotions, like he was scared of them. Maybe he is… I know that, after what happened with Cole, Hank was never the same, and more often than not he’d let me handle cases where children were involved.

I sigh and shake my head, finishing off the cup of thirium until I replenish what I lost, now able to move again. Setting the cup on the coffee table in front of me, I slide off the couch and make my way over to the bathroom, both eager to clean myself up and see what i look like, wondering if I can decipher what model I am. “Come on, Sumo,” I say, gesturing for the large dog to follow me… not exactly wanting to be alone despite being in my own (old) home.

Once I reach the small room, I flick on the light and turn towards the mirror to find that… I’m quite shorter than my previous counterpart (okay, a lot shorter), which explains why Rossco and Tony looked like giants in my eyes. My face is basically the same shape, as it is for all androids except… I have far more freckles. 215 to be exact, They’re splattered across my face like drops of paint across a canvas. My hair is the same muddy brown, but without being gelled back into its usual style, it’s nothing more than a dirty mop of hair.

My eyes, however, my eyes are what intrigue me the most.

They’re… different colors.

Brown and Grey.

That would explain the optical damage.

Thankfully, it doesn’t seem to affect my vision.

With my good arm, I reach my hand up and touch the area of my face where the synthetic skin has peeled away, revealing the porcelain white metal of my body. It’s cold and smooth, slightly scratched from the impact with the road when I fell out of the van. This can easily be fixed by calibrating and recalibrating my skin… which means turning it off for a few moments.

Something I haven’t done before.

I never had a reason to deactivate my skin, like Markus did when he made the Stratford Tower broadcast, so… if I’m being honest, the task is slightly daunting.

**STRESS LEVELS 60%**

Sumo barks a little and whines, nudging my hand with a large wet nose.

“It’s okay, Sumo,” I mumble, “I’m just nervous”.

He grunts in response and lays at my feet, looking up at me with his big caramel eyes.

_Woof_

_Woof!_

I smile at him and nod, “You’re right… I can do this, I can do this”.

_I can do this._

With a small sigh, I move my hand up and brush over my LED which still flashes red. I press the small space between the light, watching as the skin on my face begins to fade away, leaving nothing but the shell of my body. It’s jarring at first, despite having seen other androids do the same, and I can’t help but gasp a little as more and more of my white interior comes into view. I shut my eyes and count the 60 seconds it takes for the skin to reset itself, almost scared to see myself… naked.

 _It’s okay, It’s okay, it’s okay,_ I repeat.

10 seconds have gone by.

I hear Sumo whine again, shifting around on the floor.

_It’s okay, you’re okay, It’s okay._

30 seconds have gone by.

I take a few sharp and ragged breaths, each sounding more like a wheeze even though I don’t need air.

40 seconds.

My stress is starting to build as I grip the sides of the sink, desperate to keep myself from toppling over.

_It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay._

50 seconds.

**STRESS LEVELS 71%**

Sumo barks, and I flinch at the sudden sound, letting out a garbled sigh of relief when a notification pops up behind my eyes, telling me that the calibration is complete. “ _See? That was easy,”_ I mutter to myself, releasing my death grip on the counter and opening my eyes, glad to see that the damaged skin has, for lack of a better term, healed.

I look… relatively the same, but just different enough that, at a glance, I could be mistaken for the android I used to be.

“Alex,” I say to myself, “M- My name is… A- Alex”.

_It’s wrong…_

_It feels wrong…_

_I shouldn’t be doing this,_ I tell myself, feeling as my stress begins to skyrocket.

Lying is… harmful for androids, which is why we rarely do it. It greatly messes with our stress levels and can become hazardous to our wellbeing. It can even cause us to self-destruct if we’re not careful.

I shift a little on my feet and close my eyes, knowing that if I really want this to work, if I really want my former self to be nothing but a memory, there's one thing left to do.

[Input: REQUEST NAME CHANGE]

**You’re doing the right thing…**

**This is the right thing to do.**

**-** PLEASE STATE PREFERED NAME-

[Input: ALEX]

| CONNOR > **ALEX** |

CONFIRM NAME CHANGE?

**> Yes**

>No

-

ARE YOU SURE?

-This Action Cannot Be Undone-

>YES

>NO

I take a deep breath.

**[X] CANCEL**

**\/\/**

**\/**

**Name Change Cancelled**

“Kid?”

I jump and open my eyes, seeing Hank at the door, holding a pile of clothes and a small box, “You good? Your LEDs still red”.

“I’m fine,” I say breathily.

My heart rate is far too high.

“Alright,” he says, clearly not convinced, “All I have is one of my shirts and some smaller pants, but they’re still gonna be pretty big on ya”.

“That’s fine”.

Another moment of silence, all I can really hear is my heart beating in my ears.

“Can I ask you something, Alex?”.

I nod and grip the counter again.

“Yeah... “.

Hank hesitates for a moment.

“Did you just... wake up?".

I blink, slightly confused.

"I woke up at approximately 6:57 am this morning,".

“Not what I meant, kid. I mean like, did you just deviate?” Hank says, gesturing to my clothes, “I haven’t seen an outfit like that in a while, and I’ve never seen an android like you”.

“O- Oh…”.

_What…_

_How do I respond to that?_

**_I_ ** _don’t even know what model I am._

“I- I…”.

**[X] LIE**

~~[O] TELL HANK~~

I swallow hard and clear my throat.

“I’m not sure…” I say, trying to relax so my LED will go back to a calm blue, “I don’t… remember”.

Hank sighs and nods, “Alright… don’t stress about it too much, okay? You’ll hurt yourself”.

I simply blink, watching as he sets the clothes and box down on the counter beside me, leaving the room once again, this time, bringing Sumo with him.

“Get dressed, Okay? There’s a sling in the box for your arm,” he calls back to me, “I’m running late as it is”.

**HANK**

**-SUSPICIOUS^**

Once I’m sure he’s gone, far enough to be out of earshot, I let out a sharp desperate exhale of breath, silently cursing at myself for not being able to calm myself down, something that was fairly easy as an adult… as an RK800.

_Coin…_

_Where’s my coin?_ I think, remembering how my quarter doubled as a tool to help me test my mental and physical sharpness, and as something to help lower my stress during crime scenes.

I grip the counter one more time before taking hold of the clothes and box and stagger back to my room, hoping to find the quarter there even though I know I’d brought it with me the day I died. Perhaps Hank kept it since it is quite a valuable memento to both me and him.

_It’s okay…_

_It’s fine,_

_Just relax..._

**STRESS LEVELS 88%**

_Fuck,_

_Fuck, Fuck…_

_That’s too high…_

_I need to find my coin._

I finally push my way back into my room, carefully closing the door behind me and trying not to completely lose it.

I know what this is…

A panic attack…

A bad one at that…

I can feel my hands go numb… technically the sensors on my hands become overloaded and shut off but big difference.

**It’s okay, you’re fine, okay?**

**Just calm down… calm down,**

**You don’t want to self-destruct do you?**

That’s the last thing I want… but I need my coin, and I don't-

I take a large gasping breath again and close my eyes, telling myself to focus so I can scan the room, hoping that I’ll be able to locate the coin in the mists of all my panic. There… on the dresser in its usual place (because of course is it). I grab it, bumping into the dresser and causing the fish tank to sway slightly. Amelia, Rose, and Blaire all swim frantically around, startled by the sudden movement of their otherwise stationary habitat.

“S- sorry,” I mumble, ignoring the layer of dust that has collected on the smooth metal surface. Sighing, I flick my coin up and down a few times as I slide to the floor, my body trembling as my stress levels continue to fluctuate. I struggle a little with the coin tricks, this model’s physical and mental calibration techniques are much slower than the RK800s.

I flick the coin up and count to 10, taking slow, long breaths.

 _In...  Out..._ _  
_ _In...  Out…_

I roll the smooth coin over my knuckles, slowly and carefully.

_In… Out…_

_In… Out…_

I can feel my stress begin to trickle away.

 _In...  Out..._ _  
_ _In...  Out…_

**STRESS LEVELS 22%**

I sigh, and close my eyes again, leaning my head back against my dresser and staring up at the ceiling. There are small plastic stars that glow in the dark up there, something Cole had put up long before I’d even been created. Part of me wonders what life would be like if little Cole survived the accident… Hank would probably not have a need or want to adopt me.

I shake my head.

**Now isn’t the time to think about this…**

**Get dressed and go with Hank.**

I sigh again and carefully pick myself up off the ground, gathering the clothes and box I haphazardly left strewn around the floor, recognizing them immediately. The shirt is one of Hank’s old DPD hoodies, one that I’d often borrow and wear for myself, it’s basically a dress on me, but if I roll the sleeves up and tuck the rest into the pants (surprisingly one of my pairs) I should look… somewhat presentable, nowhere near the level of formal I’m used to.

I’m just going to have to deal with it, I guess.

I take one of the belts I had hanging up behind my door and wrap it around my waist so the pants ride just above my waistline. Taking the sling from the box, I gently work my arm into the small sleeve and slip the straps and rest them on my shoulder. It feels odd, but it does prevent me from accidentally bumping my injured arm against anything until it can be fixed/replaced.

“Hey kid, you almost done? I kinda have an image to upkeep” Hank says at the door, knocking softly at the wood.

“C- coming!” I mumble, running a rough hand through my hair in an attempt to tame it, but it doesn’t do much good so I leave it be. Before I leave, I grab my quarter that I’d left lying on the floor and place it back on the dresser, not really sure if it really belongs to me anymore. Plus I don’t think Hank would much appreciate a stranger taking his son’s precious keepsake.

_But… I am Hank’s son._

**No…**

**No, you’re not.**

**Connor is dead.**

**You’re Alex**

“I’m Alex” I repeat softly to myself again, feeling my LED flick red for a moment as I leave the room.

Hank is standing at the end of the hallway, staring at something on the wall before turning to me, his expression dropping immediately. I know that look, it’s one he’d give me often whenever I did or said something that reminded him of Cole, but now I can't help but wonder if I remind him of Cole… or Connor. By the way, I practically swim in his too large clothes, I’d guess the latter.

”Looking good, kid,” he says, avoiding my gaze with a downtrodden look on his own face,, “Maybe if you’re lucky, you can grow up to be a cop just like me”.

I furrow my eyebrows in confusion and closes the door to my room. “I’m not sure I understand. Androids don’t ‘grow up’, not like humans anyway. We can learn and process new information to grow intellectually, but not physically”.

Hank simply scoffs, “I guess you’re right about that part, but you can always just transfer yourself into another body, right? That’s been a thing for a while”.

I blink, utterly bewildered.

Memory transfers are reserved for RK800, not your run of the mill worker androids who can easily be destroyed and replaced… at least… that was before the revolution.

“What?”.

Now it’s Hank’s turn to look confused.

“Alex, age transfers have been a thing for almost a year now. Christ, I’d joke and ask you if you’ve been living under a rock, but I think you actually have”.

_Almost a Year…_

_Almost a Year…_

_Almost a Year…_

Those words ring in my head nearly a dozen times, but it doesn’t lessen the impact. When I was alive… when _Connor_ was alive, android rights were just barely passed, and extremely new. And we were nowhere near allowed or able for that matter, to reproduce, or… _grow_ as Hank put it. Then, if that's the case, that would mean…

“Hank?” I say, my voice low and withdrawn, “What year is it?”.

“What ye-... Kid, you literally have a computer in your head, shouldn’t you know?”.

I should… but after deviating I decided not to rely on programming like that, trying to … not simulate… but **be** more human.

After my prolonged silence, Hank sighs and begins to walk to the door, seeming too agitated to continue our conversation. “It’s 2043, kiddo. Get with the fucking times”.

For once I’m thankful Hank stormed off because now he can’t see the look of utter terror on my face when I realize what this means.

 _I… I’ve been gone for…_ **_3 years?_ **

3 years.

I make an odd sound, something that’s between a sob and a scream.

Both seem appropriate.

 

**STRESS LEVEL 89%**

**So much for lowering it...**

Sumo rushes up to me after I sink to my knees, leaning against the wall with a heavy thud and immediately tries to lick away the tears that seemingly pour from my eyes in a continuous stream.

I’m crying…

Again…

I hate this, I hate this so much. I don’t like feeling this way, and it’s made worse by the fact that my emotions are a lot more intense and uncontrollable as a child.

I hug Sumo tightly, trying to simultaneously accept and deny the reality presented before me. “Oh, god, Sumo,” I whine, gasping for air I don’t need, “oh god”.

I’ve been dead for 3 years.

I’ve been in limbo for 3 years.

That would explain the nothingness I experienced after death and the sensation of no time passing. And while I hate to even admit I‘m relieved to see that Hank is still here, alive,,, and working for that matter. From his actions when we were first introduced, I’m honestly surprised he’d lasted this long after my death, but there’s no way of knowing if there were any… _attempts._

 _“I’m so sorry, Dad”_ I mumble pathetically, my mind obsessing over the fact that I may never know the full extent of pain I put him through.

**You did that to him, Connor**

**You broke him**

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I cry, Sumo continuing to tolerate my incessant crying.

I only stop when I hear Hank blare the horn of his car a few minutes later, alerting me to, as he would put it ‘hurry the fuck up’. Gasping for a simulated breath, I hug Sumo one more time before pulling myself away with great reluctance. “I'm so sorry,” I repeat, kissing him softly on the snout, “I should have been more careful. Now, look what I’ve done”.

The dog whines and gives me a small lick on the hand, before nudging it with his head and woofing softly. With a rather shaky hand, I pet him, forcing myself to my feet even though I feel like the room is spinning again.

I stumble down the hallway to the point where Hank was staring at something on the wall, or… the lack thereof. There’s a faded outline where a picture frame should be and it takes all my strength to move past it and try not to think about _why_ said frame is missing. _Just go with Hank,_ I scold, pushing my way through the door, my standard Cyberlife issue shoes making a crunching sound as I step on the snow on the porch, _It doesn’t matter why it’s gone. You’re not him anymore._

Continuing to take small gasping breaths as a method to get my stress level back down, I close and lock the front door, hearing Sumo shuffle behind it. I wish will all my heart that I could reassure him that I’d be back, but I don’t know what’s going to happen to me since it’s clear Hank isn’t looking for yet another ~~replacement~~ surrogate son. “Bye, boy,” I say, shuffling over to the car.

I’m surprised to see it’s not his old junker, but a new self-driving one, something that Hank would always express his passionate hatred for the thing. I guess his car finally broke down and had to be replaced, and who knows how long ago that was. So, without a word, I step into the back of the car, wiping at the last bit of my tears away and hope that Hank doesn’t notice them… but of course, he does because my LED is still flashing a deep red.

He turns around to look at me, his gaze softening immediately, “H- hey, Kid. I didn't mean to make you cry... I'm just a grumpy old man, alright? I'm all bark and no bite”.

I sniffle again and nod, knowing better than anyone that Hank is a big softy at heart and he really is trying his best to do the right thing and be there for the right people (and androids). But to know that I’m putting him through all this pain again, makes me feel worse and leaves a heavy looming sensation in my chest.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to be a burned" I mumble behind more tears, “I don’t mean it”.

"Woah, woah... none of that shit. Listen, where ever you came from before this, you’re safe now okay? You're not a burden, understand?”.

I don’t say anything, feeling a cold wall of withdrawal from reality crawling up all around me.

Hank sighs and taps in the directions to the DPD precinct. “Don’t worry kid,” he says, “It gets better”.

_But does anything ever truly get better?_

 

 

The trip to the precinct is uneventful and quiet, and I find myself missing the loud obnoxious sounds of Hank’s heavy metal that we’d always listen to on the way to work, but I get the feeling he’s refraining from playing it for my sake. I stare out the window, trying to steady my shaking form and hands, but it’s no use. My LED had toned down to a muted yellow by the time the car pulls itself into the parking lot, and I hardly notice when Hank hops out and taps on my window.

“Come on, Alex,” He says, pulling his coat higher around his neck, “Let’s get this over with”.

I nod and drag the sleeve of the hoodie across my face to dry the last bit of tears away, pushing the door open and stepping out into the cold frigid morning.

“What’s…” I begin, trotting alongside him as we walk up to the building, “What’s going to happen to me?”.

“We’ll run your serial number through the systems, see if we can find any relatives or guardians registered to that number. If not, you’ll be sent to New Jericho, they’ll give you housing until they can find you a more permanent home”.

“Oh,”.

Hank grumbles a little and pats my back reassuringly, “Don’t worry, I know Markus… he’ll take extra good care of ya”.

 _Oh god, Markus,_ I think, realizing that him and all of Jericho had to deal with my death as well, me basically being the Ambassador for all androids as we tried to mend ties between our people and Cyberlife. But… it looks like they did fine without me.

I shuffle inside the warm office and smile a the android at the front desk, happy to see she’s still working here. I can hardly bring myself to smile at her, but I manage and watch the look of confusion prompted by Hank bringing in an unknown android into the office.

“Morning, Annette,” He says, tipping an imaginary hat to her.

“Uh, Mr. Anderson. Who is-”.

But Hank is out of the room before she can finish her sentence.

Everything feels… so much bigger now that I’m so much smaller, and everything is so much louder than I remember. I can’t help but inch closer to Hank, instinctually grabbing his hand and hiding behind his pant leg. Officers start taking notice of the odd little android following him, and I can’t help but notice my LED go back to red.

“Just ignore them,” Hank says.

I try to by closing my eyes and letting him lead me over to his desk, but I can still feel everybody staring at me, adding onto the stress that I’m already feeling.

 _These are all my coworkers,_ I realize, _These are my friends and colleagues_

**Were…**

**They were your friends** _._

Can’t help but let out a whimper, once again reminded of what I lost.

“Well, well well, look what we have here,” says a hauntingly familiar voice, “It seems that Anderson got himself a new plastic pet”

I freeze, my eyes going wide, a small gasp escapes my throat as two men walk up to me and Hank.

One of them is Officer Reed.

Hank getting a few steps ahead before Hank realizes I’m not following him.

“Leave him alone, Gavin” he snarls, pulling me away from them, “I’ll break your fucking nose again if you’re not careful”.

“Try and you’ll lose your job, asshole” Reed replies, reaching up and taping the edge of his slightly crooked and scared nose.

Hank groans in annoyance and begins to walk away again, “I don’t have time for this shit. Come on, Alex… let’s go run your numbers”.

But I don’t move.

I can’t move.

“Alex?”.

My LED is a solid red as I stare up at the frighteningly tall man standing next to Gavin.

His hair is brown, eyes grey and his face cold and emotionless.

 

                                                                                                                         I’m… staring back up at myself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh!!!
> 
> Sorry if this was a shitty update, I'm trying \\(>_<)/


	5. Chapter 5

**DETROIT POLICE DEPARTMENT**

**1, FEBRUARY 2043 - 00:08:07**

**-WINTER-**

* * *

Androids don’t breathe.

Androids don’t _need_ to breathe.

But we do need air.

We need it to cool our systems and regulate certain vital functions.

It’s always there and always available in an endless supply.

So why do I feel like I can’t get any?

I can’t look away, either.

I can’t.

         I can’t.

                      I can’t.

No matter how hard I try.

It’s like looking in a mirror.

A mirror that shows an impossible reality.

But it is real.

It’s so terrifyingly real.

 **He’s** real.

RK900.

My replacement.

It seemed like a myth Amanda came up with as a scare tactic to get me to do my job right. But alas, here he is, standing stiffly in front of me.

The R900 is standing right there, staring down at me with curious grey eyes.

“May I help you with something, young one?” he asks, his voice eerily similar to the one I used to have, if not slightly deeper, “Your stress levels are unusually high”.

Still, I can’t speak.

I make an odd, garbled, gasping sound and stumble back, yelping in surprise when I hit the side of a desk, causing things to topple off the edge.

I can’t breathe.

     I can’t breathe.

            I can’t breathe.

“Shit, take it easy, Alex,” Hank says, trying to calm me down, but the moment his hand touches my shoulder, I panic even more.

“No, no no!” I yell, falling to my knees and covering my eyes and ears.

I keep gasping, desperate for air.

This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening, this isn’t happening.

T  H  I  S    I  S  N  ‘  T   R  E  A  L

“Gavin, call off your attack dog,” Hank continues, trying to pry my hand away from my face, “It’s freaking the kid out. Alex… Alex, come on, it’s okay, kiddo”.

It isn’t helping, he isn’t helping, why isn’t he helping?

Hank always help me calm down.

“No, no no no,” I continue, my LED spiraling into a dangerous red.  

My stress it too high, and I can’t get it down.

The other officers are taking notice now, a few crowding around the desk I’m huddled next to.

**^WARNING STRESS LEVEL 87% & RISING^**

“Don’t touch him,” the RK900 says, calm and collective, his footsteps edging closer to me, “You’ll only stress him more”.

“Fuck off, I know what I’m doing, you piece of shit. Alex, take a deep breath”.

_I’m trying, I’m trying… but I’m so scared, Hank. It’s too much… It hurts._

“ _Ple- ease_ ,” I beg, “No…”.

“Continue to handle him as such and he will self-destruct,” the RK900 says, now kneeling down beside me. Hank doesn’t stand for this and immediately tries to shove the other android away but he doesn’t budge, he hardly even moves an inch.

“Alright, hands off the tin man, dickweed,” Gavin says, pulling Hank away from me as I continue muttering sporadically, “Let him do his job”.

“Don’t fucking touch me, Reed,” Hank snaps, “And that thing… isn’t a man. It’s a fucking _machine,_ nothing but a hunk of plastic and metal! _”_.

There is ice in Hank’s voice and I can’t help but whimper more when he mutters the word ‘machine’. It’s said with such hate and anger... Not like the kind, warm, loving man who took me in as one of his own, but like the man he was before the revolution.

“No, no…”.

“Alex? Alex can you hear me?” the RK900 says softly, “My name is Richard, I’m going to try and help you alright?”.

I shake my head, my LED burning red against my skull.

“No no”.

“Can you tell me whats wrong? Perhaps I can help…”.

“Please… please just go,” I whine, my anxiety and stress raising with each sound of his voice.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Richard reassures, “I understand if my appearance is slightly intimidating, I still don't understand why Cyberlife felt it necessary to give me grey eyes”.

“Go…” I mutter again, my chest and artificial lungs beginning to burn from lack of air. My head feels fuzzy and there is a light haze covering over my vision as well as warning signs about my stress.

**^WARNING STRESS LEVEL 95%^**

“Nines, give the kid some space,” Gavin says, his voice cutting through the static as he ushers the other officers away from the desk, “He’s having a panic attack”.

It’s fairly obvious that that is wants happening, but I’m somewhat thankful for his intervention in pointing it out. Although, I am curious to know _why_ he’s helping me, isn’t Gavin supposed to hate androids? Isn’t he supposed to hate me?

**But you’re not Connor anymore.**

**You’re Alex.**

**Gavin has nothing against you now.**

“I am aware,” Richard replies, standing back up, “I just thought-”.

“It’s okay, you did your best but I don’t think there is a lot we can do right now. Just give the kid some time to cool down. Then maybe we can help him”.

“Oh, like hell there’s not a lot we can do,” Hank snaps, stepping in front of the two other men. “Come on, kid, I shouldn’t have brought you here. I’ll take you back to my house and you can play with Sumo some more, eh? How’s that sound?”.

Honestly, that sounds much more enjoyable than sitting on the floor in the office crying my eyes out. But at the same time, the thought of moving back into the house that used to be mine if far more uncomfortable and excruciating.

All I want to do is go home.

But…  
I don’t really have a home anymore, do I?

**You’re not him.**

**You don’t have a home.**

**You’re Alex.**

Another sob escaped my lips and I curl up into an even tighter ball.

At that point, Hank backs off, now getting the picture Gavin was trying to paint. “Okay… okay, just take it easy, Alex… you’re going to blow a fuse,”.

I hardly hear him, doing my best to take long deep breaths, hoping that that will lower my stress levels.

 _In...  Out..._ _  
_ _In... Out…_

 _In... Out..._ _  
_ _In... Out…_

 _In... Out..._ _  
_ _In... Out…_

I shut my eyes tighter, letting a small shaking breath out.

Part of me wants I to just turn off my audio processors, just be left alone with nothing but numbing silence, but that will only make things worse I think.

Oh, how odd emotions are…

I want to be left alone…

But I don’t want to **be** alone.

“Take care of yourself, Alex,” Richard says, his voice trailing away from me, sounding almost hurt and confused by my negative reaction to him.

It’s not his fault honestly, and a small part of me feels bad that I’m treating him as such. Richard didn’t ask to be made in my image, if not slightly different. He didn’t ask for Hank to be hostile with him when all he wanted was to be friendly, he didn’t ask for any of this.

I can’t stop thinking about how the RK900 came to be… he couldn’t have existed while I was still alive or he would have been working with us at the station since he was originally meant to replace me. How long has he been working here, and with Gavin for that matter? I’ve been dead for three years, technically making Richard my older counterpart… or _brother_ , as Hank would put it.

And I don’t even want to think about Hank’s reaction to seeing someone who looks just like me suddenly show up, he’d probably thought it was me, coming back to life in another RK800s body. He must have been so crushed discovering that it wasn’t really me, just another android with my face... perhaps that’s why he was so cold and mean to Richard.

Maybe Hank felt like he was trying to replace me.

I don’t blame him for feeling like that…

I feel replaced too

**But you weren’t replaced.**

**Connor was replaced**.

**You’re Alex.**

**Not Connor.**

“I’m not Connor”, I whisper softly to myself, rocking back and forth as I cry, still trying to regulate my breathing, “I’m not Connor”.

I don’t know how long it will take me to get used to my new name and body, but part of me refuses to let my previous personality.

That’s who I was...

It’s who I am…

But at the same time…

It’s not.

“I’m not Connor,” I repeat.

\---

I don’t know how long I sit there on the floor, but at some point, my tears cease and my breathing and stress levels return to a normal level. Everyone around me has seemingly left me alone, aside from the snide remarks I hear from the less friendly officers, most people passing by me without so much as a glance.

I only look up when I hear someone walk up to me, pausing just a few steps away.

It’s Gavin.

“Hey,” he says, softly as if he's afraid to startle me again, “You cool now?”.

I nod a little and take a deep breath.

“I think so.”.

“Good… sorry if Nines over there scared you” he says, pointing to the android standing at a table in the break room, “He comes off as harsh, cold and brooding but he’s a real softly, has a thing for cats too. Do you like cats?”.

Rightly, I’ve never met a cat.

“I like dogs”.

Gavin chuckles a little and reaches back for something in his pocket, producing his phone for me to look at. “Well, all I got are cat pics, so we’re gonna have to compromise”. He pulls up a picture of a small grey tabby curled up in a tight ball much like the one I’m in now, an orange and white tom cat next to him. “The grey one is Tobias, and the orange one is Orange Creamsicle”.

I can’t help but giggle at that, a quick bit or research proving that the cat does resemble the frozen treat.

“I know, it’s a shitty name for a cat but it suits the little bastard” Gavin continues, flipping through more photos, including one that consists of a stasis induced Richard with the grey cat napping on his face.

_That’s…odd._

Gavin hates androids.

Especially me.

Why would he have a picture of Richard with his cats?

Where’s Hank?

How hasn’t he already pummeled Gavin to the ground for bothering me again?

That’s easily answered by the fact that I can see him in Captain Fowler’s office, engaged in a rather heated conversation from the looks of it.

I let my gaze return to Gavin, the small smile I was wearing fading away within seconds.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” I ask.

“What?”.

“You called me Hank’s plastic pet”.

“Oh… shit. I did, didn’t I?”.

“You did”.

“I’m sorry… it’s a force of habit, but I’m trying to change”.

I want to doubt that, but his sudden and somewhat obvious friendship with Richard seems to prove his good intentions.

“It’s okay,” I say softly, letting myself relax a little, “I like your cats”.

That makes Gavin smile, a crooked grin coating his lips. “Heh, I’m glad… anyways, once that old fart is done talking to our boss, we’re gonna take you in the back and talk a little about what you saw last night okay?”.

I feel my LED go red briefly.

“You’ll be fine though, alright? And to prove it, I brought a little treat”.

Once again reaching back, Gavin produces a small packet like object, hints of blue seeping through the filmy white plastic. Curiosity gets the best of me and I lean forward, trying to analyze what it is even though I have no programs to do so.

“What is it?”.

“Uh… ice cream?” Gavin says, sounding like it’s obvious.

I furrow my eyebrows.

Surely Gavin knows androids can’t eat.

“Um,”

“It’s frozen Thirium,” he confirms, seeming to catch on to my confusion, “Android safe, I promise”.

Still slightly skeptical, (especially taking food or anything from Gavin) I pull myself back slightly.

“Richard made them, not me. I swear on my life they’re safe… I can even have him scan if for you if that’d make you feel comfortable. I mean, I get it if you don’t wanna take it. ‘Stranger Danger’ and shit, just thought I’d offer”.

 _He’s really trying, isn’t he?_ I realize.

**Might as well humor the man.**

**He might actually like you.**

**Perhaps you can be friends now.**

**You’re Alex.**

**Not Connor.**

I reach out and grab the frozen treat, still slightly wary of the man who wanted to see my die on multiple occasions and mutter a small thank you.

“No problem, kid. Now, come on, let’s go sit in the break room with Nines… I don’t think Hank would much appreciate sticky thirium all over the carpet of his desk”.

“Okay,” I say, my eyes widening as a new emotion enters my processors.

_Delight._

The frozen treat is chill, and cool to the touch once the filmy wrapping is gone, the thirium itself is sweeter than normal.

It’s nice.

“Are you and Richard friends?” I ask as Gavin leads me to the break room, finding it interesting how many time the android comes up in conversation, and how his heart rate picks up ever so slightly at the sound of his name.

And, coincidentally enough, when I ask this, Gavin’s heart rate increases.

“Uh, yeah,” he says, “you can say we’re friends, I guess”.

“Okay,” I say again, keeping my focus on eating the ice cream in my hand.

Once we reach the break room, Gavin brings up a chair to the table he and Richard (or Nines as he calls him) are occupying.

“I’m glad to see you’re doing well, Alex,” the RK900 says with a timid smile which I return, “I’m sorry if I frightened you”.

“It’s okay,” I reply, feeling conflicted about my feelings towards the android before me, “It’s not your fault”.

It’s mine.

**You should have been more careful.**

**If you were, you wouldn’t be here right now.**

**You wouldn’t have to deal with this.**

**Now you’re Alex.**

**Not Connor.**

“Kid?”.

I jump a little when Gavin gets my attention, making me realize I did what Hank referred to as ‘zoning out’.

“You good?”.

I nod and lick at the ice pop, trying to ignore the little voice in my head… even though I know it’s right. I know it’s right and I should listen to it, maybe just go through and completely change my name… erase the last bit of proof that I was ever Connor.

_Yes…_

_Yes… that’s what I’ll do._

Now I just have to find the courage to go through with it.

I feel my LED spin yellow a few times before cycling back to an unsteady blue when I’m spoken to again.

“I see you’re enjoying the popsicle Officer Reed gave you,” Richard says, acting as if I don’t know that it was actually him who wanted to give it to me, “How is it? Too sweet?”.

I shrug, not really capable of having an opinion since this is the first time I’ve been exposed to the sugary treat. “‘s good”.

“I’m glad” the other android says with a slight smile.

* * *

Pretty soon, I find myself losing interest in the thirium pop and listening to Reed and Richard talk amongst themselves, so I slide the frozen snack back into the wrapper and slide off the chair, feeling slightly adventurous. “I’ll put this back in the freezer for ya, kid,” Gavin says absently, barely seeming to notice me leaving the table at all, “You can finish it after we ask you some questions”.

Ah, yes… I’d nearly forgotten about that.

And there’s a reason why.

And I’m not going to think about it now and risk another panic attack.

So, I occupy myself by exploring my surroundings. No one really seems to care about the small android wondering around the precinct unattended, as long as I keep to myself… I know that most officers are still unnerved by my… _Connor’s_ stiff and robotic movements and presence.

I try and avoid Fowler’s office for a multitude of reasons, finding myself wandering along the edges of the large room, deciding to at least stay somewhat inside the bullpen. The office itself hasn’t changed all that much, everything is basically the same... except perhaps for the movement of a few desks, some plastic potted plants and a new coat of paint on the walls.

Life seems to have moved on fairly fine without me.

As it should.

It’s just like a song from an old cartoon Hank showed me once.

 

 _Everything stays, right where you left it._ _  
_ _Everything stays, but it still changes_ _  
_ _  
_ _Ever so slightly, daily and nightly_   
In little ways, when everything stays

 

“Not everything stays, I suppose” I whisper to myself, absently dragging my fingers across the wall, my eyes trained on my worn out shoes with each step I take. I only stop when my hand hits the edge of what seems to be a picture frame, or rather a plaque.

My eyes grow wide and my LED immediately goes red when I see who’s in the picture on the said plaque. Of course, It’s me… a picture I know very well, in fact. I remember the day it was taken vividly, as it was what Hank considered to be my ‘first birthday’. **August 15, 2039** , exactly 5 months, 14 days, 4008 hours, 240,480 minutes, and 14,428,800 seconds before I was killed.

It’s a dismal thought, I know… but I can’t help but think of it.

Hank had surprised me with a party and gifts that day, hence the photo which consists of me giving the most genuine smile I think I’ve ever given. He’d also somehow managed to contact my colleagues at New Jericho to join us, Markus, North, Josh and a few other androids all gathered here to celebrate.

I was happy that day.

I was surrounded by my friends, my coworkers, and my family.

 _Happiness_ , happiness was always the emotion I struggled with the most, but, not exactly in the way most thought. Yes, I felt happiness… I simply struggled to show it, I struggled to emote… I struggled _being._

Part of me felt and _still_ feels weighed down by my old programming, something Hank and I worked on together, in an effort to get me properly integrated into society.

Carefully, I reach up and touch the plaque, my small fingers tracing over the inscription engraved on a metal plate below.

 

 

 

> _-Dedicated In Memory Of-_
> 
> _Detective Connor Anderson_
> 
> _Detroit Police Department_
> 
> _Aug. 15, 2038 - Jan. 29, 2040_
> 
> _~Beloved Son, Friend and Coworker~_
> 
> _Rest in Peace_

 

“He was only a year and a half old,” Hank suddenly says from beside me, causing me to jump and pull my hand away. “He was just a fucking kid”.

There’s anger in his voice, but he’s trying to hide it as if not to frighten me.

**A little late for that.**

After a moment of silent, he looks at me, eyes heavy with an emotion I cannot describe. “What are you doing over here, kiddo?” he asks.

I take a sharp breath and take a step back.

“Nothing”.

“Nothing?” Hank asks, clearly not convinced.

 

 **[X] LIE** ~~  
[O] TELL HANK~~

 

“I’m just looking,” I continue, trying to get my LED to cycle back to yellow, “I got bored waiting for you”.

He sighs heavily and gestures for me to follow him, making it obvious he doesn’t want to stick around the plaque, having left the conversation at briefly mentioning how young I was when I died.

**No, Not you.**

**Connor died.**

**You’re not Connor.**

**You’re Alex.**

“Just… don’t wander off. It’s time to we go ask you some questions, okay? Alex?”.

Every day, I realize.

Everyday Hank has to pass this plaque.

“Alex”.

He’s constantly brought the pain when he looks at this photo… and it’s no wonder I didn’t see any at home. He must have hidden them all, just to spare him his sanity. How many days has he has to will himself not to care, not to be reminded of how I died right in front of him, in his arms.

How can he not hate me…

I’ve ruined his life.

“Alex!”.

I jump again, realizing I’ve once again spaced out.

“S- sorry,” I mutter, shaking my head harshly for a moment as I struggle to keep my composure, my simulated breathing much faster than it needs to be. “Sorry…”.

Hank simply groans, an annoyed expression seemingly stuck on his face as he abruptly grabs my hand. “Stop apologizing so damn much,” he says, tugging me gently along with him, stopping a few feet away, “What the- why the fuck are your hands all sticky? And your mouth is blue”

“Officer Reed gave me ice cream” I reply quickly, dragging a sleeve across my face to clean it, something I’d never even consider doing as an adult. Now it seems like nothing more than a childish impulse, “I should have cleaned myself up before continuing with my exploration”.

“What’d I just say about-... You know what? Just go wash your hands. The bathroom is-”.

“I know where it is,” I interrupt, beginning to make my way to the other side of the bullpen, desperate to get away from Hank, and the heavy sense of guilt that settles in my chest.

 

**HANK**

**-ANNOYED ^**

 

The same feeling of not being able to breathe returns as I push open the door to the bathroom,  taking in a large simulate breath of cool air, coughing a little at the harshness. “You’re okay… it’s okay,” I mutter, gripping my hair as I lean against the door and slide down to the floor, thankful that the room is empty “Stop panicking”.

My stress levels have returned to a high (but not lethal) level, my LED continuing to burn red.

“Stop thinking, stop thinking, stop thinking” I continue shutting my eyes tight and softly banging my head against the door, “Just stop thinking”.

**You broke him.**

**You did that to him.**

**You broke Hank.**

The phrase repeats in my head as tears begin to sting my eyes.

Everything is my fault…

If I’d just _listened..._

I wouldn’t be here.

I’d still be Connor and not…

Alex.

**But that’s who you are now.**

**Connor is dead.**

**You’re Alex**.

I bang my head harder against the door.

“Stop,” I whine, choking out a sob, “Please, I don’t want to think about it anymore”.

I’m so distracted by my thoughts and tears, that I almost don’t pick up the small amount of noise coming from the very last stall.

It sounds like voices…

It’s Gavin and… _Richard?_

 

 _“Just shut up… please, shut up”_ Gavin hisses softly, clearly trying to keep the android from

speaking, “ _He’ll leave in a bit,”._

 

_“But his stress levels are-”._

 

_“Nines-”._

 

_“... okay”._

 

And with that, the air goes silent.

I sniffle a little and dry my eyes with my hands, forcing myself up to my feel even though I once again feel slightly dizzy. “Is someone there?” I ask, deciding to play dumb since I already know someone is.

There silence…

If not but for a moment.

 

“ _Pheck…”._

 

Then, I hear a stall door open and see Gavin step out alone, quickly closing the door behind him. “Uh, hey, kid,” he says, sounding rather nervous, his heart rate increased greatly, “What are you doing in here all by yourself? I heard ya crying”.

“You did?”.

It was impossible for him not to have heard me, but still… I feel compelled to ask, feeling slightly embarrassed and ashamed that I’d let myself become that vulnerable.

“I needed to wash my hands but got… _overwhelmed_ ”

“I noticed. I just didn’t wanna say anything and scare you while I was taking a piss,” he says, awkwardly rubbing at his neck, scratching at some odd purple marks that weren't there befo-

 

O H…

O O O H...

I see what’s going on.

My LED flashed blue for a moment, finding this situation amusing and endearing.

Despite our past… I can’t help but feel happy for him.

Everyone deserves to be happy.

Even jerks like Gavin.

Officer Reed hated androids, and all it took was one to change his mind about everything…

Almost like it was with me and Hank…

Now his anger and bitterness towards Richard make even more sense. Hank sees a man with his son’s face in a relationship with the man who could have saved him.

Hank blames Reed or my death, even though it was Derik's.

For Connor’s death.

**Connor is dead.**

**You’re Alex.**

“You okay? Sounds like you’re working through a lot of shit”.

I jump a little and nod, wiping my face dry again, “Yes, I’m fine. Emotions are just… difficult”.

Gavin cackles a little and points to the sink, “They sure as, now wash your hands. Hank and told me it’s time for the questioning”.

I swallow hard when he mentions the questioning, trying to once again distract myself by lathering my hands with soap and scrubbing away the sticky thirium on my fingers.

“Will you and Richard be joining us?” I ask, finding that the only reason Hank would talk to Gavin.

He nods.

“Okay.”

 _You’ll be fine_ , I try to convince myself, continuing to hear Richard move around in the stall ever so slightly. _Everything is going to be fine._

Once I’m finished washing and drying my hands, I follow Gavin out of the room, trying to muster up as much of a smile as I can when I spot Hank waiting outside on of the interrogation rooms down the hall.

“You ready, Alex?” he asks, pulling me away from Reed as he walks into the observation room.

I hesitate but force out an answer, “I believe I am”.

And with that, Hank and I enter the cold concrete room, immediately recognizing it as the room I interrogated the HK400 in. I can’t help but freeze up, resulting in Hank carefully pushing me forward, reassuring me that we’d be done with this in no time.

“It’s just a few questions, kid,” He tells me, sounding both tired and annoyed, “It won’t kill you”.

I nod and sit down on the cold metal chair, expecting the lieutenant to occupy the other, but he doesn’t and instead, Richard enters the room (looking less disheveled than Reed was) and takes a seat across from me.

“Wait!” I yelp, reaching out to hank to stop him from leaving, but refraining from actually touching him, “Aren’t you going to do this?”.

“As much as I’d prefer that instead of letting this thing do it for me, I have my orders from my boss,” he says, completely ignoring Richard’s presence in the room, “Plus… I can’t interface with you and see into your mind or whatever the fuck it is you do”.

“It’s alright, Alex,” Richard says, offering up a smile, “It’s just me”.

I can’t help but shake my head, feeling tears in my eyes again.

“N- no… I want, Hank,” I whine, my LED going red as I wipe at my eyes, “I want Hank!”.

“Kid, don’t make this more difficult than it has to be,” he says, already leaving the room, “I don’t need to be pissed off at 2 androids”.

“Please!” I beg, allowing my voice to rise slightly, “Please…”.

But Hank doesn’t listen, and within seconds, I’m alone in the room with Richard.

**!^WARNING: STRESS LEVEL 78%^!**

“Shall we start?”.

I blink and sniffle a bit, trying to hold down my emotions even though they’re bubbling up to the surface. “O- okay”.

“Can you tell me your full name?”.

I swallow hard.

“A- Alex,” I mutter, “M-my name is Alex”.

Richard nods, his LED flashing yellow as he files the information.

“Any last name?”.

I shake my head.

“Can you tell me your make and model?”.

That’s something I still don’t know…

“I-... don’t know what it is”.

He furrows his eyebrows slightly in a way that makes me realize I’m being scanned. “How peculiar,” Richard mutters softly, “I can’t seem to figure that out either… and your serial number doesn’t match any known model… can you tell me when you were activated?”.

**!^WARNING: STRESS LEVEL 81%^!**

“Alex, I must insist you comply…”.

I remain silent, feeling my stress slowly beginning to build.

After a moment, Nines seems to get the gist that I’m not ready to answer that question just yet. “Would you tell me what you saw last night? Do you know who took you?” he asks, changing his approach.

I shrug, prompting him to open a file left on the table.

“Are these the men you saw, Alex”?.

There are two pictures of the scrappers in there, of Rossco and Tony. My LED flashes between red and yellow as I squirm slightly in my chair, remembering the utter carelessness they treated me with.

“Yes…”.

Richard leans in closer to me.

“Do you know where they were going?”.

I shake my head again.

“Do you know what type of vehicle they were in?”.

“A van,” I reply, looking down at my hands, “A… w- white one...”.

**!^WARNING: STRESS LEVEL 88%^!**

“Did you see any identifiable markings of a license plate?” Richard asks, his eyes closing until they’re just slits as he continues to focus on me, “Anything we can use to help us catch these men?”.

I shake my head and take a shaky simulated breath, trying hard to get a grip on my fluctuating emotions and ragged breathing. “No… no… I- I got hurt, I couldn’t *cough* I couldn’t see anything”. I reach up and grab a handful of my shirt, “It hurt... it hurt so much… ”.

“Alex…”.

“There were others,” I mutter, “There were others and I left them… I left them and now they’re going to die because of me. I f- failed”.

 

My breath catches in my throat, a large notification popping up in front of my eyes:

 

~~**OBJECTIVE FAILED: SAVE ANDROIDS** ~~

 

“It’s okay…  you didn’t fail anything, Alex” Richard says softly, clearly trying to calm me down, “Now I need you to relax, your stress levels are beginning exceeding safe levels”.

“I failed… I failed, I failed, I failed!” I yell, grabbing my head and screwing my eyes shut, errors and notifications clouding my vision and thoughts. “I failed… fail fail fail!!!”.

**!^W/RN &NG: STR!S% LE&#L 95%^!**

“Alex!” Richard says as he reaches out to grab me, causing me to jerk away and let out a blood-curdling scream, already knowing that he’s going to. He’s going to try and prove my memory before I self-destruct myself, my stress level already surpassing critical levels.

“NO!” I cry, but it’s already too late, and I can see the skin on Richard’s hands retract as he firmly grabs hold of my arm, feeling as if my mind is being slowly pulled away from my body.

The last thing I’m able to say before feeling Richard’s memories force their way into my mind is:

 

                                                                                                                                                                     “Please… don’t tell them”.

 

-

 

-

 

-

 

-

 

_Everything is warm…_

_Cats…_

_There are cats sleeping on_

_Richard’s lap…_

 

_Gavin is here…_

_Richard is holding him…_

_Providing comfort…_

_He scared…_

_Hurting..._

_Guilt is plaguing him._

_“It’s my fault,” Reed says._

_“I should have done something,”._

_“I didn’t-”_

_“Shh, shh” Richard coos._

_“It wasn’t your fault”_

_“There was nothing you could do”._

_“I could have tried”_

_“I could have been nicer” Reed continues._

_“I should have gotten over myself”_

 

_“I know…”._

_“But you were raised to believe such thing about us”_

_“That is not your fault,” Richard says, “You’ve changed now”._

_“Don’t I disgust you…?” he asks._

_“You’ve seen the things I’ve said and done to your kind…”_

_“How can you…_ care _so much for me?”_

 

_“Because I believe you are a good person, Gavin Reed”._

_“Your past doesn’t define you,” Richard says, pressing his forehead against Gavin’s._

_“I do not blame you for what happened to Connor”._

 

 

_“Hank does,”._

_“Do you truly seek his forgiveness?”._

 

_Gavin hesitates._

_“I just want him to leave you alone”._

_“You don’t deserve to be harassed like that-”_

_“But now I know how_ **_he_ ** _felt”_

_“Hank is still engaged in an intense grieving period”_

_“I do not think he means it personally,” Richard says._

_“I believe his anger is misplaced do to my appearance”._

_“You’re not Connor,”_

_“I don't get why he’s so hostile”_

_“Christ, it’s like me and him traded places”_

 

_“He is only like this because he feels I replaced his son,”_

 

_“You didn’t. You’re not him…”_

_“You’re you,” Reed says, his voice wavering._

_“You’re Richard”._

 

_“Shh, shh,” Richard continues._

_“It’s okay…”_

_“It wasn’t your fault, Gavin”._

 

-

 

-

 

-

 

-

 

I'm seized with violent gripping tremble as I pull my arm away from Richard, our minds disconnecting. I fall to the ground with a sickening thud, feeling as thirium begin to push its way up and out of my nose.

I just lay there, stiff and silenced, unable to move through the severe convulsion as blood seemingly pores from my nose and the edges of my mouth. My mind is bombarded by so many error messages, so many that I’m completely blind and numb to anything that’s happening.

The last thing I hear is Hank and Gavin rushing into the room, crying out my name before everything fades to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh!!!
> 
> So... I again feel like this was a shitty update. 
> 
> Writing the ending was the most difficult, especially Richard's memories. I wanted it to be a pleasant one but at the same time, draw ties to the main story.  
> I feel like this chapter is all over the place and dragged on for far too long but *shrugs* I got it done. 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed a little bit of Gavin Reed Redemption, which will be further explained in the next chapter.  
> And I'm going to say this now, but pay attention to the Dates at the beginning of the chapters... things are about to get Timey-Whimey up in this shit!!
> 
> ps: happy belated B-Day Connor!!!
> 
> pps: FAN ART/ COVER ART:  
> https://more-than-a-machine.tumblr.com/post/177294888923/destined-to-deviate-my-name-is-connor-by


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It always rains the day of a funeral...

**DETROIT- HAVERFORD HILLS CEMETERY**

**17, FEBRUARY 2040 - 00:11:53**

**-WINTER-**

* * *

 

POV: HANK

* * *

My ears are ringing loudly in my head, so much that I almost can’t hear anything going on around me… not that I really want to. So, for the time being, I sit stiffly on a metal chair placed under an ugly blue pop up tent set up in the city cemetery.

It’s raining of course… 

_ Because it always is the day of a funeral. _

_ That’s just logic. _

A lot of people from the office showed up… not sure why that surprises me… 

Connor was a pretty popular guy around there, doing his best to make sure to befriend everyone he possibly could.

Fowler’s here, and so is Tina, and Chris, Ben, Mike and a few of the other android officers I never bothered learning the names of. They all have their heads bowed down in silence, quietly waiting for the service to start. It’s your standard police issued funeral, complete with a firing squad, flag barriers, and bagpipes. The whole shebang.

Thankfully, given my job title, I can say that I haven’t been to many of there types of funerals… maybe three in my whole career and now I can add one more to that list. Two if you wanna get technical.

One funeral for my fellow officer and partner.

And another for my son.

I sigh softly and rub my head, the high pitched squealing of the bagpipes beginning to agitate my injured head. Thankfully I didn’t rear-end the other car that badly…  no one was hurt. All except me that is, but I hit it just hard enough to give myself whiplash and mild concussion… a busted leg too. But a few months in a neck brace, cast and crutches and suspension from duty won’t kill me.

_ Unfortunately. _

I was an idiot for thinking I could actually pull it off this time, but… I guess a tiny part of me (the rational side of my mind, the part Connor wormed his way into influencing) is a little bit relieved that I lived to see another day.

But not for this…

This is the day I wanted to miss the most.

The day I bury another son.

For a while, I’m completely immersed in my thoughts, so much so that I almost don’t hear everything go quiet. The bagpipes pull to a screeching halt, the small chatter spoke among the other officers abruptly stops and there’s a small gasp split between the crown.

I look up and around to see what brought on the small disturbance.

_ Who _ more like.

 

_ Markus _ .

 

He walks up quietly, trailed by two other androids, a female with reddish brown hair, and a male I recognize as a teaching model.

North and Josh, I think their names are.

The damn Robo Jesus himself shows his face in public, this time without hoards of protesters and anti-android fanatics, just to attend the funeral of the boy who tried to kill him.

What has the world come to?

“Hank, I presume?” he asks in a soft voice as he sits beside me.

We’ve met once, just barely, a simple hello when I dropped Connor off at the New Jericho building when they were refurbishing the place.

“My name is Markus, I’m one of Connor’s friends,” he says, extending a hand out to me.

I ignore it.

“I know who you are,” I say, trying not to let my voice convey much emotion, “The great revolutionary Markus Manfred, right? Spent a better half of a week trying to persuade Connor outta hunting you down. I gotta say in the long run I’m glad you were able to talk some sense into that head of his”.

“Ah… alas, Connor’s deviating wasn’t entirely my own doing. I merely spoke to him, the rest was up to him”.

“Cut the modesty act kid, we all know he crumbled to his knees at the sight of you… I watched all of the marches when you deviated androids with your mind. That boy didn’t stand a chance against you”.

Markus hums in slight amusement, “I must say he did put up a good fight, but in truth, I doubt he could hurt a fly”.

He’s not wrong.

That dumb android was in actual tears when he accidentally stepped on a snail. 

He cried way more times than he'd been likely to admit.

The kid didn’t want to kill anyone, and just thinking that fucking Cyberlife forced him to potentially harm others… hurts.

Thankfully, he never had to fire his gun on the job…

But during the Revolution?

Hell, I don’t think that kid would have ever forgiven himself for the lives he took on the night he deviated.

I will never forget the time I found Connor curled up on the floor of the living room, shaking and shivering, eyes wide and nearly bloodshot as he desperately rocked himself back and forth in place. He looked like a child, small and helpless…

 

/\

“ _ I killed them,” _ He’d said, tone cold and robotic, “ _ I killed them, Hank”. _

_ “Who?” _ I’d asked.

“ _ The guards at Cyberlife… I killed them,”. _

_ “That wasn’t your fault… you were doing what needed to be done to save the Revolution,” _ I tried to reassure him.

“ _ They had families, Hank… wives, a husband… c- children”. _

He stuttered... something I’ve never heard nor expected to hear from the android.

“ _ It wasn’t your fault,” _ I said again, not really having much more of an argument.

“ _ I wasn’t even thinking when I did it… I should have stunned them. I could have saved them too… they didn’t deserve to die”. _

“ _ They would have killed you, Connor… it was something that had to be done”. _

“ _ Stop trying to justify the fact that I’m a  _ **_murderer_ ** _ , Hank!” _ Connor had basically screamed, causing Sumo to bark in annoyance, “ _ I am a  m u r d e r e r,” _ .

_ “Connor…”  _ I say, trying to hold the android’s trembling head in my hands. 

He pushes me away.

“ _ No, _ ”.

“ _ Connor, look at me _ ”.

“ _ Please… no,”  _ he said, shaking his head _. _

_ “You’re not a murderer,”. _

_ “But I am! I killed them, I  got the deviant on the roof killed, I got the deviant in the interrogation room killed… a- and I almost killed Markus”. _

I said it again, stern and hard.

“ _ You are not a murderer, you understand me?! All those other time, all those time? That wasn’t you, okay? That was Cyberlife… not you, you’re Connor… not Cyberlife”. _

Connor closed his eyes and seemingly choked on a non-existent sob.

“ _ Now tell me, tell me who you are, what you do and where you are,”. _

A grounding exercise… to help him relax.

He cleared his throat.

_ “My name is Connor, I’m the-... I’m an android officer that works for the DPD. I am a detective, my partner is Lieutenant Hank Anderson. He is my caretaker, I live with him and his dog Sumo in Detroit, Michigan. It is currently 4:13 AM, on June 23, 2039. I am currently on the floor of your house, suffering from what I understand is a nightmare induced panic attack, you are attempting to comfort me. I am safe”. _

I can’t help but to roll my eyes at the complexity behind his words. “ _ Kid… tell me your name again, right this time… I didn’t pay 300 bucks for a piece of paper and nothing else from it”. _

Connor chuckles and nods, steadying his breath. __

_ “My name is Connor Anderson… I am your son”. _

\/

 

We’re quiet again, for a few moments, listening as the bagpipe players slowly get over themselves and continue playing, the officers returning to their chatter.

“How are you doing, Hank. In all seriousness?”.

I sigh, and rub my temples, growing tired of being asked that question.

“My son is dead, I totaled my car, I’m injured and everyone keeps asking if I’m okay. Aren’t you ‘droids supposed to be smart?”.

That earns a sharp hiss from the North girl, and she opens her mouth to say something, but Markus silences her by raising a hand.

“That… was a rather  _ stupid _ question, Lieutenant. I’m just trying to help… in a way, I understand your pain”.

“The hell you do,” I snap again, not exactly wanting to lose my cool, but that comment irks me to no end, “You have no idea what pain I’m going through”.

“I lost my father late last year. His name was Carl Manfred, the painter. He was one of the only humans in the beginning that wanted me to have my own free will, he is part of the reason we are all free. And I lost him… I lost the person I lived for, the person who made me the man I am today. So yes, in a way, I believe I do understand your pain”.

I shut my mouth, immediately feeling even shittier for getting upset.

“I-... fuck. I- didn’t know. I’m… sorry for your loss?”.

“It’s quite alright,” Markus says, taking a breath, the topic of his father’s death seeming still painful for him to remember, “And thank you, I miss him greatly but I know part of Carl is always with me”.

Oh… always with that bullshit.

*sigh*

I don’t get why that’s always the default thing to say when people lose someone close to them, just say that ‘they’re still with you’.

No…

No, they’re not.

Connor is dead.

Cole is dead.

I’m alone.

And that’s that.

“Thanks, I guess,” I mutter grimly, shifting slightly in my seat, deciding to change the subject, “So uh… these two your bodyguards?”.

The Josh boy snickers, but North looks annoyed as if it’s the only emotion she knows how to show.

“We’re here per Markus’s request,” Josh says, “I hope that’s alright”.

“‘S fine kid. Just surprised Robo Jesus is here for an officer's funeral,”.  _ The one he almost killed _ , I add silently in my head.

“Connor was my friend. He was a friend to all of us… without him, the Revolution would have never succeeded. He freed an entire building full of androids. I’m just paying my respects to a fallen soldier”. 

“Don’t call him a soldier,” I hiss softly, “He’s not fucking a soldier… he was just a kid, he doesn’t deserve to be remembered as a fucking soldier, he should be remembered as a kid who gave his life to save others,”.

All three androids fall silent, almost in shame.

_ Good,  _ I think.

_ Let them sit in it and fester. _

_ Maybe they’ll think twice before calling my son a soldier.  _

“Listen, Henry,” North says, the first to speak up.

“It’s Hank”.

She rolls her eyes and groans.

“Listen,  _ Hank,  _ Connor may not have been a soldier, but he was a fighter, and nobody can deny that. But  _ his gonplei ste odon _ , his fight is over. Let’s remember Connor for what he has done, not what he hasn't”.

I stay silent, not exactly sure why she started speaking another language (let alone from that one show we shall not speak of), but in the end I know she’s right. I know… after this, I’m going to have to try and move on again. But this time there’s no one to help me through it.

I’m just about to open my mouth, say something about it being impossible to not think about all the things he’ll never do, when Fowler walks up onto the podium, the mic getting feedback that squeaks through the speakers.

“May I have your attention please,” he says, clearing his throat, “Today we are here to remember and commemorate the life of Connor Anderson, a wonderful officer, detective, and friend to all of us. Let us bow our heads in a moment of silence”.

So that’s what everyone does. 

Except, me… not exactly being the type for praying and religion.

If anything I’m cursing at whoever the fuck is up there for taking both of my sons away from me.

“For years leading up to the Revolution last November, most of society viewed androids as disposable, replaceable machines. Here at the DPD, Connor changed all our minds about that. He proved himself not only to be an excellent officer but a kind and caring individual who cares and looks after all his fellow officers”.

That’s a bit of an understatement.

I don’t know how many times that kid did overtime just so that some of the rookies didn’t drop dead from sheer exhaustion, ‘Mr. I don’t need sleep’. Hell, I think Chris even let him babysit his kid while he and his wife went out for a date night. 

People trusted him.

His co-workers respected him.

The rookies looked up to him.

The other android officers aspired to be like him.

Connor brought out the best in people.

“It was a tragedy when we discovered his passing,” Fowler says.

_ You mean, murder. _

“And I know all of us are saddened and grieving, so if you need to talk… please refer to the grief counselor on staff. She’s here to help you”.

I can’t help but feel that last bit was directed at me.

These officers are strong, Connor’s passing shouldn’t affect them as badly as it is me.

“And now there are a few officers here who would like to say their final goodbyes,” Fowler says, gesturing to a somber-looking Chris as he walks up to the podium. He smiles softly and half-heartedly, eyes looking down upon the wooden casket that holds the android in question.

“Uh… hi,” Chris says, removing his cap, “I’m Chris… one of Connor’s friends. Uh, he... he was a great guy, kind and friendly with everybody, even with those who didn’t even deserve his attention. It… took a while for me and some others to warm up to the idea of an android being a higher rank without exactly earning it but… kid was a hell of a lot more talented than any of us expected. I… I’ll miss ‘em, heh. We all will”.

He finishes, everyone claps and another officer takes his place.

Tina this time, she talks about how she’ll miss being able to gossip and chat about things happening around the office and with her wife.

She finishes, everyone claps and another officer takes her place.

Mike.

I haven’t seen much of him since the Revolution, but all I know is that Connor had saved him long before the Android and I met. On Connor’s first mission in fact… the one he…  _ failed. _

“He saved my life,” Mike says, “I… I kinda wish I was able to save his... ya know… return the favor”.

_ Me too, Kid, _ I think to myself,  _ Me too. _

I clear my throat and try to focus on what’s going on but I can’t even will myself to put in the effort.

I zone out as officer after officer lines up and says something kind and wholesome about Connor… then, pretty soon, it’s my turn to speak.

“And finally, we have Lieutenant Hank Anderson, Connor’s father, here to say a few final words,” Fowler says, gesturing over to me.

I hadn’t gotten anything prepared, I hadn’t even thought about doing anything considering I didn’t think I’d even be attending given what I was trying to do a few weeks ago.

“I’ll help you up,” Markus says, seeing my struggle to get up with my crutches, but I shoot him a look and he sits down, raising his hands up in defeat, “Alright…”.

With that, I struggle to my feet and hobble up to the podium, half wanting to take the mic from Fowler and chuck it across the vast yard. But… I just think of what Connor would say if he were here (which would be a paradox considering this is his funeral) he’d want me to act civil and respectful, pay respect with honor and class.

So… for his sake… that’s what I do.

People clap, and the mic gets feedback once I begin to speak.

Then… all is quiet.

 

I’m standing right in front of the coffin, it’s open of course… not much to hide since they were able to fix up the damaged areas… but not the bi-components. So there's lies perfectly still and pristine in the wooden box, his LED silent and still.

He looks almost human.

I would argue that he is.

Connor is dressed in is Cyberlife suit as opposed to his police uniform, except it’s stripped of its logos, armbands and I.D markers. He’s just a normal kid being buried in his best Sunday suit.

I tear my eyes away from him, knowing the longer I stare the harder it’s going to be to continue.

_ Don’t cry, Hank. _

_ You’ve gotta stay strong… _

_ It’s almost over… _

“I never thought I’d live to see the day where I’d be attending a funeral for an android, let alone one I’d come to call my son,” I begin leaning heavily against the casket. “I can’t begin to tell you how many times this dumb bastard got himself shot to shit, always trying to be a hero”.

_ And a hero he was … he just… took it too far this time. _

“When… *sigh* when Connor first came to the DPD, I wanted nothing to do with him. Hell, I even threatened to kill ‘em once. But the kid wasn’t fazed, not entirely… I- I think all he ever wanted was to belong, fit in, have a place to call his own. Have the one thing he wanted the most be was denied at all turns. And he wanted that from me…  _ me _ of all fucking people. Heh,”.

The chuckle is dry and cold, not my usual sarcastic, smart-ass remarks.

“But the damn ‘droid grew on me, got me out of a bad place simply because he cares… he cared about a washed up, angry, depressed, suicidal scumbag like me… because he could. And that’s that… Connor he just-”.

The mic squeals again as I cough and force out a sob.

It’s not voluntary, and everyone seems put off by it.

“That was Connor, he wanted to help people… even at the cost of his own life”.

_ Keep it together… _

_ Keep it together… _

But I know I can’t.

“He just wanted to protect me, and I couldn’t protect him… and I’m his dad!”.

Another harsh chuckle escapes my lips.

“He saved me so many times… and I just wish I able to return the favor!”

 

Fall Apart

            Fall Apart

                          Fall Apart

                                         Fall Apart

                                                          Fall Apart

 

And just like that… everything comes crashing down.

“I couldn’t protect him…”.

Tears make themselves present in my eyes and Fowler takes the mic before I drop it. “Go sit down, Hank. It’s okay… you don’t have to say anything else”.

I shoulder him away, completely numb to everything else around me. Shellshock might be a good word for what I’m experiencing or all the grieve that I’ve been bottling up for the past few weeks. I hardly realize it, but I stumble over to him and grip his shoulder, my vision blurred by salty tears.

“I didn’t even get the chance to tell my boy I loved him… after everything he did for me… I couldn’t even tell him his dad loved him”.

I’m weak… so weak.

_ Pathetic... _

To think that I could never tell Connor, my adopted son but son all the same, that me, his own fucking father, loved him… tears me up inside.

Did he know?

Was it just an unspoken thing between us?

I mean… Connor himself had said it a few times, I teased him saying that I know and that he was sappy and a goofball, but did he know I meant it back?

I’ll never find out.

Markus has gotten up now to try and help pull me away from Connor’s casket, like a child being dragged away from the candy aisle.

“It’s okay, Hank… just settle down” Markus says, a firm hand on my back, “Just let it go”. 

God... how many fucking times have I been told that over the years.

That it’s going to be  _ okay _ .

It’s not…

It never will be.

So I give up and accept the inevitable, that after this… the finality of Connor’s death... Nothing is ever going to be okay again.

People don’t clap when I step down, the look more disturbed than anything else. Perhaps it’s because I tend to not show much emotion, and I just broke down in front of all my co-workers, they all got a glimpse at the broken man I truly am inside.

In a few moments, I’m back in my seat, silent tears falling from my eyes as Markus tries to comfort me, but everything has gone numb around me.

The service continues… and the only reason I acknowledge any time passing is the gunshots that rip through the air above us.

The Firing Squad.

A high honor for a detective, an android at that.

The shots go off and I close my eyes and flinch.

I watch Connor die over and over in my head, a spray of blue blood filling the air when the gun goes off, Derik pulling the trigger.

The bastard was DOA once he got to the hospital, I wasn’t sorry… I’m still not. He got what he deserved for killing my son, and Gavin got suspended for twice as long as me for endangering the life of an officer, so good riddance to him too.

I’m just glad HR didn’t give me too much shit for shooting the guy in the first place, he had just shot my partner and was still a threat to others.

But for some stupid fucking reason, Gavin’s words ring in my head. 

 

_ “You know what you should cry over? The fact that you almost killed that little girl’s father right in front of her eyes. She’s probably traumatized cause of it,” _

 

She’s safe now… the little girl. 

But part of me knows Gavin’s right.

I took this little girl’s father away, just like he took away my son.

Ironic isn’t it…

“An eye for an eye and the world goes blind,” I say blankly, watching as the casket is lowered into the ground.

“But what is the world now if people were taken for no other reason than an accident? Fate, perhaps? What then?”.

Markus looks at me, confused at first and I know he’s scanning me… he has the same look Connor gave me whenever I was acting out of it.

_ Concern. _

“We move on,”.

 

xXx

 

The service ends, people cry and say goodbyes and give me condolences.

Fowler gives me a look as if to say,  _ hang in there. _

I ignore him and continue with my sulking. 

Markus and the others help me up despite my wishes against it, wanting to be left alone… especially after everything.

“Why the fuck are you even here, Markus?” I hiss, honestly finding it even more difficult to move when I have two androids on my side tugging me forward whilst on a bad leg.

He pauses.

“What?” he asks, eyebrows furrowing for a moment, “What do you mean? Connor was my friend, of course, I’m going to attend his funeral,”.

“Why though? ‘Cause for a while there it seemed like Connor was scared of you,”.

He laughs a little but stops when he sees the seriousness of my tone and face. “Why would he be scared of me, despite our past, I wouldn’t hurt him… or even consider doing anything of the sort”.

“None of us would,” Josh adds.

“Okay… so why did he come home one night, nearly crying, saying how he messed up things between him and Jericho… something to do with the death of a deviant before the Revolution”.

Connor didn’t say much about what happened (other than what I already knew) so I didn’t pry, knowing that his stress levels were high enough as it was.

Everyone goes still for a moment, Markus’s expression growing almost dark and the others look away completely.

“Simon,” he mutters, letting go of me and gesturing for Josh to do the same.

“The android at Stratford Towers?” I ask, grabbing the crutches from North.

He nods.

“I see what you mean now. *sigh*. When he told me what had truly happened after we left Simon on the roof, and… how he’d  _ used _ Simon as a tool to find Jericho, I was livid. I had good reason to, despite this being actions done by pre-deviant Connor, he was aware of what he’d done and why”.

I have to physically hold myself back from beating the shit outta this fucking android. Connor didn’t have a choice, he didn’t know what he was doing was wrong, back there on that roof was the first time he ever felt, and it was utter terror. 

FEAR.

Connor didn’t pull the trigger.

He was simply going along with what he was told was right the entirety of his short life up until that point. He was doing anything to survive, knowing that if he failed, he’d be killed, dismantled and replaced.

People will do anything in the name of self-preservation.

“What did you do to my son…” I ask in a hushed, enraged tone.

Markus swallows.

Nervous…

He’s nervous…

_ Good. _

“I… I’d told him that his services were no longer required by New Jericho and that he was not to return to the facility unless I gave him specialized permission”.

“It… was not a unanimous decision, but Connor had left before anyone was able to talk to him,” Josh says, giving the other android the side eye.

“The others at Jericho… they had been less accepting of Connor’s integration into our society. Most still saw him as ‘The Deviant Hunter’, that was the name he made for himself in their eyes,” North explains, a small sense of guilt coating her voice, “I admit that at one point I had been one of them, but he was trying to fit in,”.

“What happened, what did you do to my son?!” I snap again.

Everyone is quiet for a moment before answering.

“We’re not sure… but we assume that some of the others caught word of what happened to Simon and, uh… tried to take matters into their own hands”.

“We had found spots thirium around the parking lot a while after he left… it matched Connor’s”.

I furrow my eyebrows angrily, reaching forward and grabbing the tall android by the jacket, “You’re telling me your people beat up my son for something that wasn’t his fault?”.

Markus gently pulls my hands away from him, “We’re not sure… once things cooled down between us and I allowed Connor to return, I asked if anything had happened that night, and he said no… I didn’t push him for an answer”.

“Unbelievable… un-fucking-believable,” I mutter, “Aren’t you all about protecting androids ‘n shit? Wasn’t that the whole point of the fucking Revolution?!”.

“What happened was out of our control, Hank. The most we were able to do was find the androids and enstate a punishment,” Markus reassures me as if that’s supposed to make me feel better.

“Oh, and Connor was in control of what happened to that Simon fella? Was Connor the one who pulled the trigger on the gun that killed your friend?! No… he wasn’t. Whether you want to hear it or not, Simon killed himself, not Connor,” I yell, quickly losing my temper if I haven’t already, “Life isn’t fair to good people, kid. I thought you of all people would understand that”.

I sulk off before anyone can say anything, Markus letting out an aggravated exhalation of breath, clearly having not wanted to hear what I had to say.

But I could care less.

He doesn’t follow me, nor do any of the other androids.

I just want to go home, be alone with my dog and drink away the world.

I just want the pain to stop…

Deep down I know it won’t, because like I said before,  _ Life isn’t fair to good people. _

But I’m not a good person…

So maybe, just maybe… I deserve this.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was going to be much much longer, but it would cram too many key story plots in a small amount of time... so I guess Y'all are going to have to wait to see what I have planned for Hank in Chapter 9!
> 
> *And I know North reminded me of someone...  
>  Can you guess who??  
>  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


	7. Chapter 7

DETROIT POLICE DEPARTMENT- INTERROGATION ROOM 1  
1, FEBRUARY 2043 - 00:011:29   
-WINTER-

\---

>INITIATING PRE-CONSTRUCTION RECALL PROGRAM<

 

~~ >OUTCOME 1 - COMPLETED | DEVIANT DESTROYED ITSELF ~~

~~ >OUTCOME 2 - UNKNOWN | ???   ~~

>OUTCOME 3 - ACTIVATED

 

>/ _NOVEMBER 6th 2038 - 12:56:05 AM_

 

_[ EXTRACT CONFESSION - COMPLETED ]_

_[OBJECTIVE: LEAVE INTERROGATION ROOM]_

 

_ >/ The deviant in the interrogation room has started to smash its head against the metal table in an attempt to destroy itself, the loud horrifying din rings through the concrete room. _

_RK800 stands by the door, watching the android emotionlessly, knowing that this was the consequence of pushing the androids stress levels to the max. If it couldn’t be stopped, the android would have no worth to their investigation._

_Connor needed it alive._

_Officer Miller, Detective Reed and Lieutenant Anderson all rush into the room, Miller is the only one who actively tries to stop it, struggling to get the handcuffs off the self-destructing android._

_“Stop it, goddamnit!” Reed yells._

_But he can’t._

_The HK400 is too strong and continues to smash it’s head down, filling the air with specks of thirium._

_“I… I- I can’t! I can’t stop it!”._

**_[O] INTERVENE_ **

_[X] GIVE UP_

_RK800 decides to step in, having the strength and knowledge to prevent the deviant from causing further damage to itself. “That’s enough!” it yells, “You need to stop that right now!”._

_The deviant doesn't listen, of course, RK800 expected no less._

_Officer Miller struggles but finally unlocks the HK400 from its restraints, and in a blink of an eye, with the speed that only an android could possess, takes the gun from the officer's holster._

_It aims the gun at RK800 and fired._

_Rk800 sees it too late, the last thing it sees is the bullet force it’s way into its skull._

_It feels its programs shutdown into nothingness._

_There is nothing left._

_Nothing…._

_Nothing…._

_Nothingnothingnothingnothingnothingpainnothingnothingnothingnothingpainnothingnothingnothingnothingnothingpainnothingnothingnothingnothingnothingnothingnothingnothingnothingnothingpainnothingnothingnothinpaingnothingnothingnothingnothingnothingnothingnothingpainnothingnothingnothingnothingnoth_

_n̨̺̻̹͔̤̜͚͓̯̅̿̒͐̓̔̉̋͝͝ö̢̢̬̻̖̼̜̞̣̥́̐̐̇̄̄̕͠͝ţ̨͙̤̥̙̳̬̟̬̈́̊̂̏̇́͋̊̀͝h̨̛̛̹͓̣̞̹̳͕͎͊̉͑̇̈́͌̕ͅi̡͇͈͔̭̜̣͍͖̥̓̓̑̈̆̃͌͘͝n̨̧̳͍͎̺͚͉̗̝͋̇͌̾͗͋̽͗͘ġ͎̬̹̝̭̤͚̦̼͖̍͛͒͒̃̔͊͝n͙͔͇̱̖͚̫͓͈͓̍́̍͒̔̓̇̌͑ọ̧̨̱̬̱̦̭̟̠̿̓͂̈̈̈́͌̍̈́͝t̡̧̻̝̗̪̣̝̯̼͊́͛̍͆̈́͆̇͘ẖ̡̫̠͎͇̙̺̜̟͛̋̈́̒̏͛̇̈̾͠i̧͇̹̟̤͓̦͖̙̫͗̂́̍͒͌͘̚͠͝n̡̧͇̹͍̩̞̠̖͕̈́̄̾͂͛̓͐̑͊̂g̢̡̬̯̗͚̯̫͈͊̈́̒̋̓͑̾͌͗̌ͅn̨̛̗̞͓̠͉͙̳̟͈̈́͊̉̇̏͐̇̑͘o̩͈̤͍̫̫͈̹͕͖̿̀̎̆͑̆͠͠͠t̨̟̯̻̝̹̞̬͕̓̂̇̂̒̉̐͋̾̃͜ḧ̢̰͇̮͖̟̞͚͉̪̅̇̾͗̊̓̎͗̉į̨̣̤̰̲̹̝̹̎̏̽̍̏̋̔͊́̕ͅn̢̮̟̯̫̫̩̰͙̗̂͆̾̄͒̆̌̋̚͘ğ̹̺̪͍̻͈̖̮̰̂͛͐̔̂̓̎̓͜͝n̡̠̩̼͓̫͎̣̦̐̍́͐̍͌͊̆͘͘ͅơ͇̮̮̦̭̰̹͎͈̮̓̓͗̈̉͂̉͐̊t̨̛̲̖͉͖̘̞̱̗̹̓̎͂͌͌̀͝͠h̡̧̬͍̱̙̪͖͓̭̆̎̾̏̋͗͂̚͠͝í͍̩̤̤̮̪̞̹͍͛̽̃́̒̐͋͋͜͝n̢̛̜͙̙̯̙̺̞̈́̃͒͗͐̅́̆ͅͅg̡̧̢̧̧̛̤̰̞̯͔͕̹̺̘̤̞̦̜̮̿͊̅̔͗͛̔͛̍̑̃̇̓̏͆̈́̚͝ͅn̨̺̻̹͔̤̜͚͓̯̅̿̒͐̓̔̉̋͝͝ö̢̢̬̻̖̼̜̞̣̥́̐̐̇̄̄̕͠͝ţ̨͙̤̥̙̳̬̟̬̈́̊̂̏̇́͋̊̀͝h̨̛̛̹͓̣̞̹̳͕͎͊̉͑̇̈́͌̕ͅi̡͇͈͔̭̜̣͍͖̥̓̓̑̈̆̃͌͘͝n̨̧̳͍͎̺͚͉̗̝͋̇͌̾͗͋̽͗͘ġ͎̬̹̝̭̤͚̦̼͖̍͛͒͒̃̔͊͝n͙͔͇̱̖͚̫͓͈͓̍́̍͒̔̓̇̌͑ọ̧̨̱̬̱̦̭̟̠̿̓͂̈̈̈́͌̍̈́͝t̡̧̻̝̗̪̣̝̯̼͊́͛̍͆̈́͆̇͘ẖ̡̫̠͎͇̙̺̜̟͛̋̈́̒̏͛̇̈̾͠i̧͇̹̟̤͓̦͖̙̫͗̂́̍͒͌͘̚͠͝n̡̧͇̹͍̩̞̠̖͕̈́̄̾͂͛̓͐̑͊̂g̢̡̬̯̗͚̯̫͈͊̈́̒̋̓͑̾͌͗̌ͅn̨̛̗̞͓̠͉͙̳̟͈̈́͊̉̇̏͐̇̑͘o̩͈̤͍̫̫͈̹͕͖̿̀̎̆͑̆͠͠͠t̨̟̯̻̝̹̞̬͕̓̂̇̂̒̉̐͋̾̃͜ḧ̢̰͇̮͖̟̞͚͉̪̅̇̾͗̊̓̎͗̉į̨̣̤̰̲̹̝̹̎̏̽̍̏̋̔͊́̕ͅn̢̮̟̯̫̫̩̰͙̗̂͆̾̄͒̆̌̋̚͘ğ̹̺̪͍̻͈̖̮̰̂͛͐̔̂̓̎̓͜͝n̡̠̩̼͓̫͎̣̦̐̍́͐̍͌͊̆͘͘ͅơ͇̮̮̦̭̰̹͎͈̮̓̓͗̈̉͂̉͐̊t̨̛̲̖͉͖̘̞̱̗̹̓̎͂͌͌̀͝͠h̡̧̬͍̱̙̪͖͓̭̆̎̾̏̋͗͂̚͠͝í͍̩̤̤̮̪̞̹͍͛̽̃́̒̐͋͋͜͝n̢̛̜͙̙̯̙̺̞̈́̃͒͗͐̅́̆ͅͅg̡̧̢̛̤̰̞̯͔͕̹̿͊̅̔͗͛̔͝ ̧̧̺̘̤̞̦̜̮͛̍̑̃̇̓̏͆̈́̚ͅn̨̺̻̹͔̤̜͚͓̯̅̿̒͐̓̔̉̋͝͝ö̢̢̬̻̖̼̜̞̣̥́̐̐̇̄̄̕͠͝ţ̨͙̤̥̙̳̬̟̬̈́̊̂̏̇́͋̊̀͝h̨̛̛̹͓̣̞̹̳͕͎͊̉͑̇̈́͌̕ͅi̡͇͈͔̭̜̣͍͖̥̓̓̑̈̆̃͌͘͝n̨̧̳͍͎̺͚͉̗̝͋̇͌̾͗͋̽͗͘ġ͎̬̹̝̭̤͚̦̼͖̍͛͒͒̃̔͊͝n͙͔͇̱̖͚̫͓͈͓̍́̍͒̔̓̇̌͑ọ̧̨̱̬̱̦̭̟̠̿̓͂̈̈̈́͌̍̈́͝t̡̧̻̝̗̪̣̝̯̼͊́͛̍͆̈́͆̇͘nothingnothingnothingẖ̡̫̠͎͇̙̺̜̟͛̋̈́̒̏͛̇̈̾͠i̧͇̹̟̤͓̦͖̙̫͗̂́̍͒͌͘̚͠͝n̡̧͇̹͍̩̞̠̖͕̈́̄̾͂͛̓͐̑͊̂g̢̡̬̯̗͚̯̫͈͊̈́̒̋̓͑̾͌͗̌ͅn̨̛̗̞͓̠͉͙̳̟͈̈́͊̉̇̏͐̇̑͘o̩͈̤͍̫̫͈̹͕͖̿̀̎̆͑̆͠͠͠t̨̟̯̻̝̹̞̬͕̓̂̇̂̒̉̐͋̾̃͜ḧ̢̰͇̮͖̟̞͚͉̪̅̇̾͗̊̓̎͗̉į̨̣̤̰̲̹̝̹̎̏̽̍̏̋̔͊́̕ͅn̢̮̟̯̫̫̩̰͙̗̂͆̾̄͒̆̌̋̚͘ğ̹̺̪͍̻͈̖̮̰̂͛͐̔̂̓̎̓͜͝n̡̠̩̼͓̫͎̣̦̐̍́͐̍͌͊̆͘͘ͅơ͇̮̮̦̭̰̹͎͈̮̓̓͗̈̉͂̉͐̊t̨̛̲̖͉͖̘̞̱̗̹̓̎͂͌͌̀͝͠h̡̧̬͍̱̙̪͖͓̭̆̎̾̏̋͗͂̚͠͝í͍̩̤̤̮̪̞̹͍͛̽̃́̒̐͋͋͜͝n̢̛̜͙̙̯̙̺̞̈́̃͒͗͐̅́̆ͅͅg̡̧̢̛̤̰̞̯͔͕̹̿͊̅̔͗͛̔͝_

_̧̧̺̘̤̞̦̜̮͛̍̑̃̇̓̏͆̈́̚ͅ nothingnothingnothing  nothingnothingnothingnothingnothingnothing_

>PRE-CONSTRUCTION RECALL PROGRAM ENDED<:

\/

\/

-/SYSTEMS CHECK

/VISION BI-COMPONENTS...ONLINE^  
/AUDIO BI-COMPONENTS... ONLINE^

/MOTOR SKILLS BI-COMPONENT… UNRESPONSIVE^

/SPEECH BI-COMPONENT… DAMAGED^ - INITIATING REPAIR 50%

!/STRESS LEVEL: 72%\\!

>SELF DESTRUCT SEQUENCE AVERTED<

/\

“Oh, pheck! Quick! Put him on his side…”.

I can see and hear everything going on around me, but I can’t do anything about it. I can’t move, I can’t speak, I can only watch.

Hank has Nines by the collar of his shirt the second he rushes into the room, the android is stunned and doesn’t pay much mind, he’s just staring at me with a dazed and frightened expression. His LED is flashing a violent red, grey eyes wide and blank.

“What the fuck is happening to him?! What the fuck did you do to him, you plastic asshole?!”.

Gavin gets up immediately and pulls Hank away, ignoring Richard for a moment. He’s not angry… concern fills his voice more than anything else. I don’t know if he’s worried about Nines or me, but I don’t really care… everything hurts too much to care.

“Hank now's not the time to get pissed, the kid’s having some sort of seizure,”.

I doubt this is a seizure… a ‘malfunction’, misinterpreted code that messed with my systems. But whatever is happening to me, it gets Hanks attention so who am I to judge. He looks over at Richard once more before rushing over to me.

“What do you mean ‘seizure’? He’s an android, androids can’t get seizures”.          

“Well tough shit, old man. He’s having one and we need to help. Nines, call an ambulance…”.

But Nines doesn’t move, and blue blood begins to foam at the edges of my mouth and nose.

It hurts...

“Oh fuck, he’s bleeding. Alex? Alex, can you hear me?”.

“Nines! What’s taking so long?”

He’s frozen… and it’s all my fault.

“Your robot boyfriend is broken, dickhole. Call the ambulance your damn self while I watch ‘em… or are you going to let Alex die just like you let Connor die?”.

It hurts so much…

“Hank, now really isn’t the time to get all salty over the past. I tried to make peace, you refused it, I accepted it. You’re right being pissed at me, but this time you’re putting this kid’s life in danger by arguing like this. Just keep him on his side and keep shit out of his mouth, understood?” Reed says, grabbing his phone and begins to dial, leaving Hank to watch over me before he can say anything, “Hello? Yeah… we got a bit of a situation down at the station-”.

A horrid garbled noise escapes my throat as I struggle to say anything through the crackling static of my voice box. I don’t even realize it but I’m trying to scream, but all that leaves my mouth is static.

“We’re going to get you help… just settle down… shh shh, settle down”.

Tear sting my eyes and I grip on tightly to Hank’s hand, which he slipped into my smaller hand in an attempt to comfort me as I continue to convulse, the spasms slowly coming to a halt.

“Hey… hey, it’s okay. I’m right here, I’ve got you, kid,” Hank continues, his voice mixed with anger, fear and concern as he grips my hand back.

“Okay… the ambulance is on its way,” Gavin says, walking back into my line of sight. He kneels down and looks at me, “It looks like it’s stopping… Alex? Alex can you hear us?”.

But I can’t respond… I don’t know how to.

The only sound that fills the air is static.

I shut my eyes again, visions of what I can only describe as nightmares dance through my processor. This isn’t the first time this has happened, my pre-construction recall program forces a lot of the unmade choices I was faced with during my first week with Hank to play out like they were actually happening.

I can still see his thirium on the table, the HK400’s… among others, invisible to everyone but me and Richard.

And it’s my fault he’s dead…

I did nothing. I stood at the door and I watched the android destroy himself, doing absolutely nothing to stop him. In my mind, I see his face next to Simon’s in the evidence room, dead.

I didn’t even know his name...

Finally, after what feels like forever when in reality is less than a minute, the shaking stops and all my bi-components return to their online functions.

“It’s okay,” Hank says, “You’re okay”.

I continue to sob, my voice box still fluctuating and dipping in and out of static as I curl up into a tight ball, pulling my knees to my chest.

“Okay… he seems to be fine, and the seizure didn’t last more than a minute but we should still have the EMTs check him out,” Reed says, reaching out and resting a hand on my shoulder, “Come on, we’ll all go back out to the office to make more room”.

“NO!” I yelp, panic suddenly flooding through my systems the second he touches me. I don’t know why though, I know Reed is just trying to help me, he’s just as scared as Hank, but I don’t want to be touched by him… I just want Hank.

I grab onto the older officer, basically clinging to him as if my life depended on it.  

“No no no no, go away! Don’t let him take me away, Hank!”.

Reed pulls back and nods, “What? I’m not gonna…?-... Pheck. Alright, okay. We’ll give you some space until the EMTs get here, right Hank?”.

Of course, Hank doesn’t move, holding me protectively as I continue to cower, but at the same time, he keeps his distance. “I’ll leave when I feel like it, okay? Now piss off and let me handle this”.

Gavin simply groans and finally turns his attention to Nines, who’s LED has finally relaxed to a pulsing yellow. “You good, Richard?”.

The android nods, “I’m functional”.

Hank grumbles at that… just like he always did whenever I brought up the fact that, despite being alive, I’m still technically a machine with programs and parts. He hated it when I’d get all analytical and bring up statistics instead of admitting I was feeling an emotion.

Gavin furrows his brows a little, “What the fuck happened when you interfaced? The kid just got all twitchy and started screaming. I’ve never heard an android scream like that!”.

“I’m not sure what happened, we interfaced and… I was forced out of his memories at a certain point,” Nines replies, looking over at me with a puzzled expression.

“Okay, what’d ya see?”.

“I was able to gain a… _certain_ amount of information,” he says, surprisingly keeping it vague, “I can confirm that the two suspects who attempted to abduct Alex are the ones from previous cases, but I was unable to gain any identifying marking of the van or the other androids”.

“But you’re okay… right?”.

Nines nods, “Yes… Alex’s memories of the event where just… rather intense, more than anticipated”.

Reed sighs again, with something close to relief this time. “Okay… we’ll have to work with that. Now come on, Nines, let’s get you out of here so the EMTs can have some space to check Alex over. Take care, alright kid… don’t let this geezer bug you too much, alright?”.

Richard pulls himself up to his feet and follows Gavin closely, giving me one last look before exiting through the door.

Now it’s just me and Hank.

My crying has slowed at this point, turning into nothing more than sniffles and whimpers, but Hank is still there, doing his best to comfort me. I can tell that he is out of his comfort zone holding me like this, and I have no doubt it reminds him of holding Cole.

It hurts to know he’s hurting still, over Cole’s death, over _my_ death… not that I expected him not to. I can’t imagine what it’s like to lose a child… twice.

But it’s my fault that I broke him further.

I wince when I remember the last words I heard before… before I became Alex.

 

_"Don't... don't fucking do this to me. Die and I'll never fucking forgive you, you plastic asshole!"._

 

I choke on a sob again, gripping Hank’s shirt tighter.

 **You shouldn't cry** , the voice in my head says.

**It was your own fault that you died.**

**Hank has every right to hate you.**

“I’m sorry,” I whine softly without really meaning to, “I’m so sorry, Hank”.

Hank chuckles softly and shakes his head, gently prying me away from his body when the EMTs finally arrive on site, “Jesus, kid. No one coulda guessed you’d spaz out like that. This wasn’t your fault, alright?”.

I shake my head too.

“I’m sorry, Hank”.

“Is this the android?” one of the EMTs says, setting her bag down in front of the lieutenant and me.

I assume he nods silently because the next thing I know, I can feel him begin to hand me off.

“Careful… he’s sorta jumpy” Hank warns.

And sure enough, I start to struggle in the EMT’s arms, trying to escape and go back to Hank.

I may not be Connor anymore, but I still care about Hank… he’s still my Dad…

Right?

**Bring up his file again.**

**It never said he was** **_your_ ** **adoptive father.**

 **Just** **_an_ ** **adoptive father.**

**You’re not registered under his name.**

**You’re not Hank’s son…**

**You never where.**

Without realizing it, I let out a sharp scream, again cursed by my childish feeling, emotions, and intuitions. “STOP!” I screech, “Stop, stop stop! I don’t want to think about it, stop making me think about it!”.

Of course, everyone is confused by this, not knowing what I’m talking about, or why I’m gripping my head and digging my nails into my skull with violent ferocity.

“Shit! Hey… stop that, Kid. You’re gonna hurt yourself!” the other EMT says, reaching over and prying my hands away from me, “Just take it easy”.

His hands wrap around my wrists in a similar fashion as to how Rossco and Tony held and tied me up, sending slight panic through my processors once again.

“No! Don’t hurt me, don’t hurt me! Hank! Help! I don’t want to die!”.

But Hank doesn’t move, and I know it’s because he needs to act professionally in a situation like this, and not let his instincts make an irrational or unwise decision.

That…

Or he simply doesn’t care and allows the EMTs to try and soothe me, get my stress levels back to a normal level.

!/STRESS LEVEL: 66%\\!

“Just relax kid… let them do their job. They aren’t gonna hurt you”.

I know that, but I don’t at the same time.

As an adult… as... Connor, I was never one to trust the technicians sent by Cyberlife, or anyone really. This was the only thing I’d admit that terrified me. I was still technically a rogue android, Cyberlife wanted me dead, they wanted to destroy me, replace me… hurt the people I cared about. That’s part of the reason why I avoided New Jericho, I was scared that Amanda would take over again, and I’d end up trying to kill Markus again, or Hank… or… everyone.

“It’s alright… we’re just going to check you’re systems and run a diagnostic… it won't hurt alright?” the female android EMT says, “Can you tell me your name, sweetie?”.

I shake my head and sniffle again, admitting defeat as I realize that even if I tell Hank who I am, who’s to say he’d still want me. He said he’d never forgive me, and Hank’s not the type of guy to make empty promises.

When I don’t respond, allowing the male technician to use a stethoscope to listen to the mechanisms in my chest, Hank steps up to the plate.

“We’re not exactly sure… we’ve just been calling him Alex,” he says, rubbing at his beard, “Although technically he’d be a John Doe”.

She hums a little.

“Make and serial number?”.

“Unknown,”.

“What? He’s not one of those upgraded YK500s?” she asks.

“Nope. One of our… uh, Android officer wasn’t able to identify his serial number, it doesn’t match any known model,”. Hank struggles even mentioning Richard, I can hear the pain and strain in his voice.

“Well, he seems fine. Sweetie, can you run another diagnostic just so we can be sure there’s nothing wrong internally?”.

She’s talking to me again, but I hardly notice until she reaches out her hand in an attempt to interface and get the information herself.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Hank warns, ”That’s what triggered the seizure in the first place”.

So the lady nods and pulls herself away so Hank can come closer. “Kid… you really need to work with us here,” he says, “we’re trying to help you and put the bad men who hurt you in jail, okay?”.

I nod, blankly and close my eyes, allowing my systems to do a full sweep for anything suspicious. Of course, it comes back with nothing out of the ordinary, aside from a 2% drop of thirium levels and a stress level that could be much lower.

I report this to the technician and look up at Hank expectantly, seeing him give me somewhat of an accomplished smile.

“Good job kid,”.

I can’t bring myself to respond… or even smile.

“Okay… he’s fine now, there was no damage sustained… but I recommend keeping his stress levels lowered, if he has another episode, call us right way. And this is just an observation, I’d try and figure out what model he is, you might have a chop-shop of Frankenstein wannabe in the works,”.

Hank nods, “I’ll forward the message to Jericho. And yeah… I was thinking someone was trying to play god with this one, but he looks pretty genuine”.

The other android shrugs, and after packing up, he leaves. And now it’s just Hank and me in the interrogation room, just like old times.

He sighs, heavily and pained, before looking down at me on the floor, in his oversized hoodie, arm limp and out of its sling, and blue blood staining my lips and nose. I must look pathetic in his eyes… small, helpless and pathetic.

A waste of space...

Just a piece of plastic with legs and a brain.

“Get up,” Hank says, soft but… also callous at the same time, like when he starts to lose his temper, “I gotta go fill out a form now”.

I bit my lip and nod, holding back an _“I’m sorry”_ knowing that that will only piss Hank off even more. So instead I just pick myself up off the ground and cradle my arm with my uninjured one and silently allow Hank to lead me out of the room and back out into the bullpen.

Of course, because I screamed and caused such a big disturbance with an EMT team rushing through, everyone is looking at me. Despite Hank’s best efforts to shield me from their stares, I can feel my stress level begin to rack up again, my LED remaining a dull red. “Just relax, okay Alex? We’re going to get outta here soon,”.

A flash of yellow sparks through my LED.

“Are we going to go back home?” I ask meekly, flinching when I realize what I said, and praying to ra9 that Hank doesn’t get too suspicious, “I mean… to _your_ home. I want… I want to play with Sumo again,”.

Hank ignores me until we reach his desk, in which he picks me up and sets me down on the top. “I dunno, kid,” he says blandly, “I dunno”.

A small whine unintentionally escapes my throat which causes Hank to groan and roll his eyes, “Just stay put alright? I’ll figure something out once I’m done with this report”.

But… shouldn’t Richard be doing the report? Unless the system has changed, the person who does the interrogation usually does the reports that follow… unless Hank is talking about the whole _passing out and having a seizure_ thing he has to make a report on. My confused look prompts Hank to grumble louder as he flops down on his chair and activates his monitor, “What is it now, kid. I know that look,”.

I stay quiet, not really sure if I should say what's on my mind as I look over at Nines and Gavin sit at their own desks, Gavin seemingly trying to talk to the android who’s LED is still flashing red.

“Go on… spit it out,”.

“I… did,” I begin, “Did I hurt Richard? I- I didn’t mean to”.

I really don’t expect him to care, and I’m not surprised when he just sighs.

“Go ask him yourself if that makes ya happy,” he says, typing away at the digital keys.

I nod a little and look over at him again, squinting my eyes ever so slightly.

 

**[ ██300 REQUESTING TELEKINETIC COMMUNICATION CONNECTION WITH RK900 #313 248 317 - 87…]**

 

From here I can see Richard stiffen up slightly and look around, his grey eyes meeting with my one.

 

**[TELEKINETIC COMMUNICATION CONNECTION WITH RK900 #313 248 317 - 87 VERIFIED]**

 

**[RK900 & ██300  CONNECTED VIA PRIVATE SERVER 03110921]**

 

Nobody talks at first…

It’s just dead air, both of us just staring at each other is an almost stunned silence.

I can’t be sure of what he saw in my memories, but by the cold, distant look on Nine’s face… I can tell it wasn’t something good, and considering all the horrible things I’ve seen on the job. Or rather, what _Connor_ saw on the job, could make it anything.

 

 _//Hello,_ Richard finally says.

 _//Hi,_ I respond, _Are… you okay?_

 

More silence.

 

 _// I am. Are you?_ He asks, LED flashing yellow for a moment.

_//Yes, I believe so. I have reason to believe that the malfunction I experienced had something to do with an increased stress level during the interface._

I see Richard shrug, _//Perhaps… but, I must ask you a question regarding the contents of out interface this morning.._

My LED flashes red, catching Hank’s attention, but he doesn’t say anything other than an annoyed grunt.

_//What… what is it?_

Richard looks down at his hands, the skin peeling back slightly, a common occurrence when androids get anxious and scared, most of our energy going straight to our thirium pump regulators.

 _//You’re really_ **_him…_ ** _aren’t you?_ He says  _//You’re Connor._

 

!/STRESS LEVEL: 73%\\!

**No.**

**Not Connor.**

**You’re Alex.**

**Connor is dead.**

**_//_ ** _What? I- I don’t… I’m not him…_ I tell him, trying not to let panic fill my words too much, _//I’m Alex… n- not Connor._

 _//You don’t have to lie,_ Richard says, _//I saw… what happened that day. I- I felt…_

He pauses and takes a visible breath, and I can see from here that his LED isn’t liking the change in stress levels.

_//I felt you die._

Without really thinking about it, the first thing that comes to mind is an apology. Never in my short, sorry life would I ever wish the pain that I experience on that roof on anyone, even someone who is… or at one point would have been my replacement. I don’t want anyone else getting hurt because of my mistakes…

 _//I’m sorry!_ I exclaimed, taking in a sharp breath to prevent myself from actually yelling that out. I can feel my stress begin to built, not enough to be dangerous thankfully. _//I didn’t mean to hurt you… I didn’t know that’s that’s what you’d see!_

“Alex!” Hank snaps, so sudden that I almost fall off the desk, “Fucking calm down, your LED is a going crazy. You’re gonna make your head explode or something”.

“I- I’m sorry,” I mutter, using my good hand to cover my LED.

He sighs and shakes his head, looking over at Richard who immediately looks away. “You talking to him or something? Doing that weird ass telepathy bullshit?”.

I nod, “It’s actually called a telekinetic communication connection, but yes… I am talking to Richard. Is… that okay?”.

“Do whatever the hell you want, kid. I don’t care… just make it fast, I’m almost done here, there we’ll leave alright?”.

“Okay,” I say despite having no clue here Hank is going to take me now unless he plans to just take me to New Jericho like he’s been saying. Now I have no hope of ever going back home… or, to Hank’s home. It hurts knowing that, I might never get to see Sumo ever again, or Hank, for that matter. New Jericoh is going to be my new home, and while Markus and the others did give me a spare room there if ever I needed one, it… never felt like home, it never was. Hank was always my home, he… he’s the one who taught me how to live, how to become human, and now… he sees me as nothing more than another traumatized victim.

Not a son.

I turn back to Richard, only to find he’s moved from Reed’s desk. I sit up slightly and look around not seeing him in the immediate area.

“Breakroom, kid. You zoned out pretty hard”.

I open my mouth but immediately shut it when Hank raises his hand, already annoyed with my constant. “Stop apologizing, I swear you’re doing it just to piss me off”.

A small giggle escapes my chest as I mutter another sorry.

He chuckles and rolls his eyes, pointing at the break room, “Go on and finish talking to talk to him, we have a long drive ahead of us”.

I tilt my head to the side, “Where… where are you taking me?”.

“To get some answers. That’s all you need to know for now, alright?”.

I swallow the non-existent saliva in my throat and hop off the desk with a nod, “Alright, Hank. I’ll be ready”.

“Good. Now get…”.

So I trot off and find Nines in the break room, his LED flashing a light yellow as he pours himself a cup of what I now see is warm thirium, just like Hank gave me this morning. I… I don’t know if I can trust him. Even if I manage to convince him that I’m not Connor, it would be useless… he saw my memories, he saw how I died, and I’m pretty that; since technically Richard is my better counterpart and was meant to replace me, he’d have access and knowledge of how _Connor_ died. I’m going to have to trust him regardless of what I do or say… but… who’s to say anyone would believe him? Or _me_ for that matter.

“Alex?” Richard says suddenly, making me realize He’s now standing in front of me, offering me the cup of thirium, “Are you sure you’re alright?”.

“Y- yeah,” I say, timidly as I take the cup and sit at one of the tables again. “This is still a lot to take in”.

“I… can’t even imagine what it’s been like for you,” he says, quiet so that no one else can hear us, “losing so much like that, and so sudden. I couldn’t-”.

“Can we not talk about it anymore?” I ask, my grip tightening around the paper cup.

“Oh… of course,” he says, snapping his mouth shut for a moment, before continuing on with our telekinetic connection. _//May I ask you another question, Connor?_

I sigh, _//I’m… I’m not Connor. Not anymore. Now, I’m just Alex._

 _//Okay… Alex,_ He replies with a cautious smile, _//I was just curious… why don’t you want anyone to know you’ve returned? I’m positive it would benefit Hank very much to know that his son is okay…_

I shake my head, my lip quivering at the thought, _//I’m not his son anymore, Connor is dead._

“But you’re still here,” he retorts.

“I can’t… I just can’t do that, Nines”.

“Why?”.

The air is silent as I refuse to answer.

_//Alex? Please answer me… I’m sorry if I said something that upset you._

“I- I just, can’t hurt him again, not like that...”.

!/STRESS LEVEL: 87%\\!

**You can’t hurt him, Alex.**

**If you tell Hank who you are...**

**He won’t love you anymore.**

**After all…**

**Why would he want an** **_android_ ** **back,**

 **When he can’t get his** _real_ **son back.**

**You’re just a replacement.**

Richard places his hand on my back in an attempt to comfort me, but I shoulder him away. “It’s okay, Alex. You’re going to be okay”.

But I know I won’t.

And I’m not.

Things are far from okay.

“I need to go,” I state, pushing the chair back from the small table.

“Alex, please. I’m just trying to understand-”.

But I ignore him and just leave the break room, pushing past Reed as he passes by.

“Christ, who pissed you off?” he asks with a well-meant chuckle, but once again I just ignore him until I reach Hank again.

“Can we go?” I ask.

“Yeah, I just finished- woah… you been cryin’ again?” the older cop asks, pointing to my cheeks, “No offense again, but you look like hell”.

I just shake my head and avoid his previous statement, “Can we please just go? I don’t… I don’t wanna be here anymore”.’

Hank looks past me back at the break room I just emerged from. “Did that bolts-for-brains asshole say something to you? Did he hurt you?”.

“No!” I say, more tears filling my eyes no matter how hard I force them to stop, “Just… I want to leave, Hank”.

But Hank isn’t buying it.

“We’ll leave once I find out what that bastard said to you. Like hell am I gonna just let that thing get away with this”.

Before he can even get past me, I grab his hand and squeeze.

“Please, Hank. I don’t want to stay here anymore”.

I’m whining now, a very childish thing to do,. But it feels natural and I can’t help but to cry and carry on the persona of Alex, trying not to let myself grow too close, or become too emotional around Hank. he’d get suspicious that way.

And I hate myself for doing this, but acting like a scared, helpless child seems to get through to him. That is, in making him want to get rid of me quicker… I don’t blame, I wouldn’t want to be around someone who was roughly the same age and had the same temperament as a deceased child either.

He freezes and takes a deep breath, roughly pulling his hand away from mine. “Okay, fine, we’ll leave… but if he did do anything to you… I will find out”. He doesn't have to worry about finding anything out, I brought this pain upon myself. Richard was just trying to help… and so was Gavin to a lesser extent.

So, while he reports something to Fowler, Hank leave me sitting by the door near the front of the building to wait for him. While there, my communication line opens up again and in comes Richard’s voice.

_//I want you to know that we’re all here to help you, Alex. I’m here… if you need someone to talk to or someone to listen, this line will be open. Anything we discuss will be completely confidential, I assure you. Just please… take care of yourself._

I don’t respond, not yet anyway… not now.

In all honesty, I don’t think I deserve to be taken care off, I shouldn’t exist. I should have died that day, and I don’t understand how or why I’m still here. What more could I offer this world as a child? All I’m going to end up doing is hurting Hank more… maybe if I-

I’m broken from my thoughts when Hank finally returns with his coat, seeming annoyed and angry at something. Hopefully, he didn’t do anything to Gavin or Nines while I was away, they didn’t do anything wrong. I did.

But we leave the station and step out into the cold world, only Hank’s breath making clouds in the air. The sky is still grey from the snow last night, and I can tell that there is more one the way… hopefully, Hank will be okay. I hate to think of him all alone during a snowstorm like this, I understand his distaste for them, but facing that alone just seems cruel.

At least he has Sumo.

He leads me to his car and ushers me inside before taking over the front seat. He types in the destination and buckles in for the ‘long drive’ to the place I still don’t know. This time, Hank doesn’t refrain from using the radio, and heavy metal begins to blast through the speakers as we cruise out of the parking lot and onto the snowy streets.

“Listen, kid,” he says suddenly, after a while on the road, the car heading right out of the city, “The guy we’re gonna go see is a total creep and a bit of a nutjob, so just… stick with me until we can get some answers, alright?”.

I nod, “Answers to what?”.

“Where you came from, what model you are… shit like that,”.

I furrow my eyebrows.

“We think you might have come from a chop-shop. People putting parts of different androids together to make an entirely new one… though… most are easy to distinguish and… a good deal of them aren’t deviants”.

“Do… do you think I’m a deviant?” I can’t help but ask.

“I’m not sure,” he replies, “Kid androids are always the hardest to figure out… don’t think too much into it, alright, Alex?”.

But how can I not?

I don’t know where we’re going, what I am, or if I’m even a deviant.

I take a breath and try to focus on the music that hurts my processors, but the pain is somewhat pleasant and distracting, and so is the view from the window.

The frozen coastline looks… almost familiar.

And then I realize that we’re extremely close to the Canadian border, and there is only one person we know who lives this far away from society and has an extensive knowledge of androids.

“Hank?” I say, staring wide-eyed through the windscreen, “We’re going to see Elijah Kamski, aren’t we?”.

His silence answers it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure how I liked this chapter's ending, but hopefully, the next one will be better!! Stay tuned :D


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are said, feelings are hurt.
> 
> Nothing is going to be the same...

**ELIJAH KAMSKI’S RESIDENCE- NORTHERN DETROIT**  
1, FEBRUARY 2043 - 00:012:58   
-WINTER-

* * *

If it wasn’t apparent, I don’t like Elijah Kamski. And much like Hank, I am very wary of him, even as we walk up the snow-covered path leading to his front door. I can’t help but wonder why Hank seems so anxious coming here, but it might just be that Kamski had all but nearly forced me to kill the Chloe model he’d set out in front to me three years ago, but I get the sneaking suspicion that it’s due to something else. Plus, the heightened blood pressure and heart rate are a dead give away.

“Hank?” I mutter softly, pulling the hoodie closer to my smaller body, “I- I don’t like this place”.

I can’t help but say it, even though it’s nearly the same thing I said last time we were here. But the feeling remains, making this experience needlessly more difficult.

“Neither do I kid,” he replies, “but this asshole knows shit about androids that can help us figure out where you came from”.

But… why?

What good does knowing what model I am if it’s not important to the investigation? Or, is it more of the fact that no one knows where I came from, Hank thinking I’m just an amalgamation of someone who wanted a new looking YK500? Either way, there’s no getting out of this now… and all I can do is hope that Kamski doesn’t find out who I really am.

Right now, my only objective is not letting Hank know.

I can’t hurt him again.

“Just stay close and don’t touch anything… and stay away from the pool”.

“Okay,”.

He sighs and knocks on the door, either consciously or subconsciously keeping me behind him… just like he did at the Eden Club and when we found the android in the pigeon-infested apartment building.

It takes a moment but eventually one of the Chloe models opens the door to greet us, either already have been expecting us… or she saw us walking up the path. “Good Afternoon, Lieutenant Anderson,” she says, her gaze floating down to me, “And... who might this be?”.

She seems suspicious, curious even… almost like I look familiar.

I don’t say anything, no surprise to Hank, I just stare at her for a moment… my LED shifting to red. I wonder… could this be the Chloe I nearly shot? Or one that stood by helplessly as Kamski, their owner and keeper at the time, so easily condemned one of their own to death?

Hank chuckles slightly and puts his hand on my back, making me realize I’ve reverted to hiding behind him. “Say hi, kid. She won’t bite” he says.

I look up at her again and wave timidly, “Alex. M- my name is… Alex”.

_ But it’s not… _

**Connor is dead.**

**You’re Alex.**

**End of story.**

“That’s a very nice name,” she says, bending down to see me better, “My name is Chloe, I’m an RT600, the first android to pass the Turing Test, isn’t that interesting?”.

So it is her.

I nod despite already having an extensive knowledge on the Turing Test… and, unfortunately, the Kamski Test as well.

“I assume you’re here to see Elijah,” Chloe says, standing up to face Hank again, “He’s busy at the moment, but you can wait inside. I’d hate for the little one to be in the cold”.

Hank forces a smile, trying to be professional and ushers me inside, “Thank You”.

Inside looks a lot different than it did last time we were here, which doesn’t surprise me much. The place looks more lived in, more ‘homey’ as Hank would put it. But the thing that immediately grabs my attention is a large built-in aquarium on the wall, filled with what looks to be hundreds of fish.

I’m hardly able to restrain myself from running up to the tank since that would probably give Hank enough of a connection between me and Connor. So, like the good little android I am, I walk straight over to the chairs provided and sit down, watching as Hank joins me.

The lieutenant chuckles softly to himself as he sits, and for a moment I’m confused as to why, but I realize with my height, my feet dangle laughable over the edge of the chair.

I feel my face get warm as I cross my arms, trying to pretend that my shortness doesn’t bother me, even though it sorta does. 

Chloe simply finds it amusing, “I’ll be back soon. I’m sure you can entertain yourselves until then”. 

Hank nods and sighs, the vinyl of the chair squeaking when he moves around, “So, kid. Can you tell me anything about what happened to you before you were almost kidnapped? That plastic prick didn’t bother to ask and now I’m sorta curious…”.

I don’t bother looking at him, just staring down at my hands again. “I- I don’t know. One minute, I wasn’t, the next, I was”.

He furrows his eyebrows for a moment, “You weren’t what?”.

I shrug.

“I wasn’t. And now I am”.

“The fuck are you trying to tell me, Alex. You’re saying that you were  _ activated _ yesterday?”.

I don’t bother responding, partly because I don’t want to, and because what does it matter? I was still almost kidnapped regardless of the day I was activated. Tony and Rossco need to be stopped, right now that’s all that matters. I don’t matter to this investigation, I don’t understand what Hank is putting so much effort into knowing more about me. I don’t matter to him, I’m just another android, a victim. He’s going to pawn me off to Jericho after all.

He doesn’t pry after that, thankfully, and the room is nothing but quiet while we wait for Kamski to show himself, which is taking quite a bit longer than it did last time we were here.

To pass the time, Hank busies himself with his phone, either playing games or doing work from the field. I, however, don’t have the luxuries of entertainment, aside from the fish tank of course. Despite my appearance, I’m still the most advanced prototype in existence (with the acceptance of Richard of course) I won’t stoop that low and let my childish inhibitions take over and compromise my identity.

But the fish…

They’re really pretty.

“If you want to look at the fish,” Hank says suddenly, “Go look at the damn fish. Just looking at you squirm is making me antsy”.

I blink and look at him, “What?”.

“In case you’ve forgotten, I’m a detective, I can tell you wanna go look at the fish,” he continues, “You’ve been eyeing it ever since we got here. You like animals, I’m guessing?”.

I shrug, reluctant to answer since now Hank suspects my activation date was yesterday, definitely not enough time for a small child to develop interests and dislikes. “I’m unsure, I’ve only ever met Sumo,”.

Hank hums and nods, “Well now’s your chance to meet some fish. I know a few breeds or whateverthefuck you call ‘em. My son liked fish too, wouldn’t shut up about them. I suppose you saw the ones in his room?”.

_ How can he talk about me so calmly? Has he actually gotten over my death and moved on? _

**Connor died, not you.**

**And that was 3 years ago.**

**Of course, he moved on.**

**You were just an android.**

**A replacement.**

**Who’s to say he hasn’t just gotten another?**

“Kid?”.

Hank taps my shoulder and I jump, my LED flashing yellow.

/!STRESS LEVEL:35%!\

I should feel happy that Hank is doing better, mentally and health-wise, even though he doesn’t exactly look it. 

But…

I just…

I don’t know.

I don’t know how to feel.

I don’t know what I want anymore.

I just want my dad back.

“S- sorry,” I mutter, taking a breath and pulling my hands up through the sleeves of my hoodie so I can hold myself to provide myself a bit of comfort. “I saw the fish, they were very pretty. Your son must have been a very lucky man to have them”.

I don’t mean to say that last part, but I can’t help it.

Despite Connor’s life once being my own, I can’t help being jealous of what I once had.

Hank looks slightly shaken by this, but I can’t read his expression no matter how hard I try.

“Yeah,” he finally mutters, coldly, “I guess he was”.

A few seconds of silence pass before I slide off the chair and wander over to the fish tank, not very interested in it anymore. Instead, I just press my forehead against the glass and close my eyes, praying to ra9 that Hank won't ask any more questions.

He doesn’t, and even if he was, Chloe comes back before he can say anything.

“Elijah will see you now, but this time I must advise against using violence. You’re lucky that he’s willing to see you after last time” she says, smiling when she looks down at me, “follow me please,”.

_ Last time? _

_ Nothing happened last time. _

_ Unless? _

“Come on, Alex,” Hank says, standing up and walking towards Chloe, “Let’s go met your maker”.

* * *

Per Hank’s advice, I stay hidden behind his legs as Chloe leads us through the house. “So, Chloe,” Hank says, trying to make small talk and be polite, “How are your sisters?”.

_ Sisters? _

_ Androids don’t have siblings… _

“Oh, Callie, and Cate are doing just fine, thank you for asking. Both of them love their new jobs”.

He grumbles a little, “Glad to hear it,”.

She smiles down at me again, an odd knowing smile, “What about you Alex? Do you have any brothers or sisters?”.

I shake my head.

“A mom and dad? Most android children have parents”.

I swallow the nonexistent saliva in my throat and shake my head again.

“No,”.

_ But…  _

_ Hank’s my dad… _

**No, Hank was Connor’s dad.**

**You’re not Connor.**

**You’re Alex.**

“Oh,” Chloe says, her smile fading.

“That’s kinda why we're here,” Hank says, pausing alongside Chloe when we walk up to a closed door, “We can’t figure out what model he is, finding out could help the investigation”.

She nods. 

“I see. Well, Elijah is right in here, if you need anything else, don’t hesitate to call,” Chloe says, opening the door to the smaller room. “Elijah, our guests are here”.

“Bring them in,” he calls.

So, thanking Chloe once again, Hank leads me inside the room, still shielding me from his eyes.

There, in the corner of the room, in a far too large chair, sits Elijah Kamski, a wine glass in hand, still wearing the robe I saw him in last.

“Kamski” Hank practically growls.

“Well, well. Lieutenant Anderson,” the man says, rotating the chair to face Hank, “fancy seeing you back here”.

“Just cram it you little snake, I’m not here to start shit, I’m here on business”.

Clearly, Hank doesn’t want to deal with him today, nor do I.

Something must have happened between the time I died and returned.

“I highly doubt that, but carry on. What is it you need?” Kamski says, gesturing to the air.

“I’m investigating a new case, kidnapping and a possible chop-shop too. I have an android here that nobody can identify, no model or serial number. I was wondering if you and your techno-magic shit could help us figure what he is”.

“Very well,” he says, standing up an tightening the rope around his waist, “Show me this so-called  _ mystery android _ . A man like you may have just been too drunk to identify it,”.

Hank tenses at that, and I grab his hand when he balls his fist, clearly ready to throw a punch. He looks down at me with a heated expression, which slowly softens when I give him _ (what he called) _ ‘the puppy eyes’. “Fine,” he mutters to me, “but he says one more thing and I’m knocking him clean off his block”.

With that Hank sighs and ushers me out from my hiding place behind his legs.

“Alex, Kamski. Kamski, Alex. Now hurry the fuck up and tell me what you know, I do have work to do”.

Kamski doesn’t move…

In fact, he just stands stock still in the middle of the small room, staring at me with wide eyes.

_ It’s… _

_ It’s not possible for him to know who I am… _

_ Right? _

Suddenly, Kamski shoots forward grabbing me by the arm and pulling me away from Hank. “Where did you get him, and how?”.

Of course, I can’t help but to yelp and tug my arm away, scurrying back to the lieutenant.

“Don’t fucking touch the kid,” Hank hisses, giving Kamski a good shove back, “Tell me what you know and we’ll leave you be”.

Elijah recovers and clears his throat. “That,” he says, pointing to me, “Is an RY300, the very first and only model of its kind in existence. A project long abandoned, years before Cyberlife fell and years before I left. The real question is, how on earth did you acquire it? How is it standing here fully awake and conscious?”.

Hank just looks back at Kamski with a blank expression, as if he were trying to process what the other man just told him. “That’s… is that even possible?”.

“He’s standing next to you is he not?” Kamski says, taking a step towards me again. This is absolutely fascinating… how, how are you even here? The project was abandoned nearly 12 years ago, you were never even fully activated with a sentient conscious. Last traces of the RY300 project were locked away in the old Cyberlife warehouse on the outskirts of town”.

“The outskirts of-” Hank mutters, looking down at me, “Christ, those fuckers got a good ways away, I found you about three or four miles from there, Alex”.

I nod numbly, not exactly wanting to recount my experience in the back of the van.

Kamski inches closer, “You’re arm is damaged, I assume this has something to do with the so-called kidnapping?”.

I’d nearly forgotten about my arm, my self-repair program working in the background as everything began to unfold. “Yes, sir”.

He nods and stands back up, looking at Hank expectantly, “We need to run tests, figure out how he came to be”.

“What?!” Hank yelps, “No, no fucking way am I letting you anywhere near him, after what happened with Connor, I wouldn’t trust you around any other android”.

_ What… _

_ What happened with Connor? _

_ What does Kamski have to do with anything? _

Elijah just smiles at that and crosses his arms. “Well, you need answers, I have them. So, I’m afraid if you’re ever going to get any footing on this investigation, you’re going to have to comply with me,”.

“No, I’m not falling for this shit again. Come on, Alex.. we’re leaving,”.

“Okay,” I mutter, taking hold of his hand as we both begin to leave the room.

Surprisingly, Kamski doesn’t stop us…

At least…

He doesn’t stop us until we’re barely out the door.

“You know, the glitches won't stop,” he says.

I freeze.

“His programming is new and highly unstable. If you let me examine him, you might just be saving his life”.

And now Hank stops, his grip tightening on mine.

“Hank?” I whisper, fear rising up in my chest, “Hank, I don’t want to die”.

He takes a breath.

_ I shouldn’t have said that. _

“I know more about his model than anyone else, I’m the only one who can help you”.

“Hank,” I say again, whining this time.

“Shut up, kid,” he says, “let me think”.

“It’s nothing serious, just a look at his code” Kamski continues, “Perhaps implement some patches, see what I can complete and fix. You wouldn’t want to condemn another android to an untimely demise now would you, lieutenant?”.

_ That’s… _

_ That’s such a low blow… _

_ Asshole. _

Hank huffs out a sharp breath and releases my hand, turning sharply to the short, pale man. “You do one bad thing to him, or hurt him in any way, I’ll fucking kill you myself. We clear?”. He lifts his hands and grabs Kamski by the robe, nearly lifting him off the ground, “And don’t you ever,  _ ever _ talk about my son like that, okay? Or it’ll be the last thing you do you fucking bastard,”.

“You have my word. Nothing will happen. Now, I’ll be in my lab, Chloe will show you the way”.

And with that, Hank lowers Kamski to the ground and lets him leave the room before looking back towards me, frowning when he sees my LED flashing red.

“It’s okay kid,” he says, “just grown up talk”.

I nod even though I know very well undisguised threats aren’t considered ‘grown-up talk’.

“Is he going to hurt me?” I ask. It’s the only thing I can really think about considering I don’t know much about Kamski aside from what the media has provided me. I don’t trust him in the slightest either, and who’s to say the test he’s going to run on me won’t reveal my alternate programming? 

I can’t let that happen.

“He better not,” Hank replies, “But… if he can prevent you from having another seizure, then we gotta take a risk if it’ll help you in the long run”.

I should have held my tongue, but… my childish programs seem to kick in and give voice to my confusion and concern. 

“Hank?”.

“What…”

“I… w- why do you care? Why are you helping me?” I ask, tears unintentionally finding their way into my eyes, “I don’t understand…”.

Hank stiffens and kneels down in front of me, clearly conflicted on how to handle this situation, “Christ, kid. The hell you talking about? You’re an important part of this investigation, so I have to care, and you’re just a kid! Plus, I’m an officer, and as an officer, it’s my job to put the men who tried to hurt you away so they don’t hurt anyone else”.

I shake my head and push his hand away when he tries to reassure me.

“Just stop…” I mutter, unable to continue this ruse.

“Alex…”.

_ I can’t do this... _

_ I can’t keep lying like this. _

“Kid… tell me,” Hank says, wiping away a tear with his thumb.

“I’m… I’m,” I say, choking on a sob between words.

_ You need to tell him… _

_ You can’t keep doing this… _

“I’m *sobs* I’m not your son, Hank,” I finally mutter, “You can stop pretending now, you can stop treating me like I am”.

He blinks.

“What?”.

“I know that what happened to Connor hurt you but you can keep using me to replace him, Hank!”.

“What the fuck are you talking about?!”.

He’s getting upset, confused… scared maybe.

Good.

“I’m just part of this investigation, you need to stop treating me like I’m more!” I continue, feeling my stress beginning to build as I cry, “You aren’t my dad,”.

 

**Hank**

**Angry \/**

 

“You’re right, I’m not your dad, and you sure as hell ain’t my son, ” he says, pulling away and stands up to tower above me, “But I never fucking said you were. What brought this on, eh? And how the fuck do you even know about families anyways, huh? You’re just some scrapped project that nobody cared enough about to finish or even look after. You don’t know what it’s like to be loved, you don’t know what it’s like to have a dad!”.

Hank regrets it the moment he says it, I can see his regret in his tired eyes. 

But the damage is done.

“Alex, I-”.

But I don’t let him finish, instead, I just turn tail and run out of the room, ignoring Hank when he tries to call after me.

**You did the right thing, Alex**

**He’ll be fine without you.**

**He’s held it together for this long.**

**He can do it for a while longer.**

I don’t pay much attention to where I’m going, so that’s why I run directly into Chloe when I try to make it through the maze of a house.

“Oh! Alex what are you-? Oh, sweetheart what’s wrong?” She asks, holding me when I instinctively wrap my arms around her legs and hide my face as I sob. 

It’s not like I’d answer her anyways, I’m too busy gasping and crying to pay much mind.

Hank shuffles up to us, wheezing slightly from trying to catch up with me. “Christ you fuckers are fast,” he mutters, “Alex, come on… I didn’t mean what I said, I got upset and-”.

“I think it’s time you leave, Lieutenant Anderson,” Chloe says, giving him a harsh look.

He blinks, “What?”.

“I will be sure Alex is cared for during testing, but I think it would be wise for his stress levels to remain stable, and I don’t think that would happen with you around”.

I hadn’t really been paying attention to my heightened stress levels, but I know I need to lower it if I don’t want to have another ‘ _ seizure’ _ and risk shutting down.

“I can’t leave without him, he’s still part of the investigation and I need to take him to New Jericho after we’re done here”.

“I’m very capable of taking him there myself. I’m due for a visit anyways,” she continues, “Now, I must advise you again to leave. I will send you a message later on about the results of Elijah's tests. Alex is in good hands I’ll need you to trust me on that”.

Hank is silent for a moment, and I can tell that he angry and arguing with himself over what’s right and what his gut is telling him to do. “Fine. But only for his sake, alright? Not for anything else,” he says, pointing a finger in her face before looking down at me, “I’m sorry, kid but maybe you’re right, maybe splitting ways is for the best. My boss already assigned me to a different case, Gavin and Richard will be taking over your case from now on, alright?”.

I choke on a sob and finally look up to him, “W- what?”.

“That’s what took me so long to leave the office, Fowler was switching me to a non-android case, has been debating taking me off homicide for a while, guess this was the final straw for him,”.

I don’t know what to say to that, Hank loves his work in homicide and I know for a fact that he wouldn’t give up his position without a fight, but I guess that the fact that a child android Hank already grew needlessly protective over was enough to push him to a breaking point.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble between hiccups and sobs, “I didn’t mean to hurt you,”.

He gives me a broken smile, “Neither did I, kid. But sometimes people hurt others without really meaning to,”.

“I know,” I reply, understanding first hand what that means.

Hank sighs and pats the top of my head.

“I’ll be off now. Just… just take care of yourself, Alex”.

“I’ll show you to the door,” Chloe says, pulling away from me to show Hank out.

He simply nods and follows the blonde android out of the house, looking back at me once more before disappearing into the snowy Detroit wilderness.

* * *

As it turns out, the testing Kamski was referring to was only a simple full system diagnostic, and a few calibration exercises, much like ones I experienced during a technician's visit. It’s not harmful in any way, it just shows and highlights broken and missing pieces of code, so most likely he will be the one to find out I’m not exactly who I say I am.

It takes a few hours, and I'm not surprised to find the room slightly darker when I finally come to, Chloe standing at a terminal nearby.

“It’s about time you woke up, did you have a nice rest?” she says.

I grumble and nod, pulling myself up, “Yes”.

She nods, humming as she continues typing.

“I assume everything went well?”.

Chloe doesn’t respond at first, her typing ceasing for a moment.

I blink, looking around the room, realizing that Kamski is nowhere to be seen. 

_ But… wasn’t he the one conducting the test? _

“I’m qualified to run tests if that’s what you're wondering. Plus, I thought you’d be more comfortable seeing a familiar face”.

_ Oh… _

“So you know who I am?” I ask slightly downtrodden.

She nods and smiles softly, “Despite us only having met once, you aren’t very good at keeping things hidden”.

I sigh, having got that line more than once from Hank.

An unintentional whine escapes my throat when I think of him, and how out last exchange went. Part of me is relieved, and another is disappointed because, for one, I got what I wanted, gotten Hank to understand that I’m not his son. But at the same time, I hurt Hank again by calling him out for his instinctive behavior.

I don’t think he meant to do so, but… I just couldn’t let himself get attached.

“I gather that Hank doesn’t know yet?” she asks.

“No. I don’t think I want him to know either,” I admit, tossing my legs over the side of the table, “I can’t put him through that pain again,”.

Chloe just sighs, “Sooner or later, Connor… he’ll find out, most parents do, whether you like it or not. Hank is still your dad”.

There’s a heavy moment of silence between us, the only sound in the air is the whirl of machinery.

She clears her throat and returns to the terminal, clapping her hands to change the subject.

“So, the results of the test. You’re fine, all the important lines of code were completed as Elijah had mentioned, but… there are some lasting problems with your model that I was unable to fix, or at least, I tried to,”.

I blink, my stress picking up a few notches.

“What does that mean?”.

Once again, Chloe doesn’t respond right away, she simply smiles an almost plastic smile and walks over to me, “Let’s take a walk, okay? I’ll explain more on the way… I assume you’re familiar with the new body upgrades for YK500s?”.

“Hank briefly explained the basics of the program, but it would be ideal to learn more”.

The blonde chuckles, “Do you always talk so formally? You do know you’re technically supposed to be a 12-year-old child, correct?”.

_ 12… _

_ Cole would be 12 right about now. _

The irony is beside me.

_ I guess that old saying is true, everything does come in threes. _

“I enjoy being polite and formal, although… it must be rather odd seeing a small child acting and speaking like an adult,” I say, joining her as she leads me out of the lab, “But I am…  _ unsure _ of how a child talk. I had very limited interactions with them”.

“I’m sure you’ll get a handle on it soon enough. Anyways, at one point in time, Cyberlife had planned on creating different bodies for each stage of life. A YK1000 model that would simulate an infant and toddler. Then, your typical YK500 being a growing child, RY300 being an aging teen, then your basic pick of all modern models for adulthood”.

I nod, “Why was the RY300 scrapped?”.

Chloe sighs again, “From what Elijia could build given the parts he had, your stress regulator is highly unstable and unable to maintain a safe level”.

_ That’ll explain why my stress level is always so high all the time. _

“During the minimal testing we did, your stress level fluctuated far too much, much like a real pre-teen or... tween as you would put it. But it was far too dangerous to allow for mass production. That is part of the reason why the idea never went beyond the first prototype, Elijah was convinced that in that day and age, people just weren't willing to take care of an older child, especially one that was designed to perfectly mimic a real rebellious child”.

“Oh,” I mutter, my LED blinking red a few times, “But… you fixed it right? I’m okay now?”.

Chloe shakes her head, “I did my best, Alex. I implemented some software patches that may fix the underlying problem with the regulator, but because you’re a one of a kind model, we are unable to test and see if the patch was successful. As Elijah says, we’re just going to have to wing it”.

I nod, taking a shuttering breath.

“Are you going to be okay?” she asks.

“I- I think so,” I tell her, pausing slightly in my steps, “Chloe?”.

She hums.

“How did I get into this body if it was never activated?”

“Ah, that little one,” Chloe says as she bends down and presses a finger against my nose, “Is a question for another time. Now we need to get you to New Jericho for the night, alright?”.

I grumble slightly and nod, “Very well,”.

“Alright, would you like anything before we leave? A cup of thirium, or perhaps a snack?”.

_ Snack? _

“Androids can’t eat… unless that’s changed too” I state, finding myself hoping that things did change because eating always seemed so enjoyable for humans. 

Especially Hank.

“Perks of knowing the co-code writer of most new androids is that you get upgraded with some of our newest programs. So yes, you can eat small amounts of biological and thirium based foods, and all of it will be converted to usable energy, interesting is it not?”.

I nod, trying to hold back the eagerness in my eyes, but not much. The trip to New Jericho is still one that I somewhat dread. “Thank you,”.

“No need to thank me, sweetheart,” Chloe says, grabbing a bluish pack of… something from the fridge and handing it to me (It looks like small gelatinous squares of thirium) “I’m just trying to help a friend”.

That phrase bothers me for some reason.

How can this girl want to be my friend when I was forced to hold her at gunpoint and she could do nothing about it?

“What’s past is past, little one. What Elijah did was unnecessary and ruthless, and I’ll have you know my sisters made him pay for what he did to us” she explains as she leads me once again outside to where an automated car waits.

“Oh…”.

“Don’t you worry, alright? You’ll be okay once we get to New Jericho, then you can decide on what you’re going to do”.

I furrow my eyebrows as I climb into the back of the car, Chloe climbing into the front. “Decide… decide on what?”.

Chloe just smiles knowingly again as the car roars to life and begins to make its way towards New Jericho.

“You’ll know what you need to do when the time comes, Alex,” she says, “You’ll know” .

* * *

 

My meeting with Markus is a very brief, and perhaps I’ve forgotten that he is still a very busy man. All he’s able to do is greet me at the door with the rest of the Jericrew take me to a room alongside many others that I assume belong to other android children.

“This is where you’ll be staying, Alex. Feel free to decorate and arrange the room however you like, and if you need anything just find one of us and we’ll help you,” he says, ruffling my hair.

I doubt he’ll be able to give me my old life back, but I thank him anyway and smile when Chloe, Markus, North and Josh all leave me be, North and Chloe head out on their own while the other's head their separate ways.

And for the first time in my short existence, I’m completely alone.

I sigh and sit on a less than comfortable mattress and reopen my communication line.

 

//  _ Richard _ , I say,  _ I believe I’m ready to talk. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you guys enjoyed this Chapter. It took far too long to write, a lot was cut but I'm glad to say I'm sorta proud of this one. A lot more is going to happen in the coming chapters, and I'll tell you now it has to do with Hank's past, Richard's origins, and Gavin's reason for his change of heart.
> 
> Stay tuned B)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!1  
> Feel welcome to leave kudos or comments if you enjoyed :D
> 
> More Coming Soon!
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr if you want  
> @destined-to-deviate


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